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N'ATION'AL 

POETEAIT  GALLEEY 

or 

INCLUDINa 

OEATORS,  STATESMEN,  NAVAL  AND  MILITARY  HEROES, 
JURISTS,  AUTHORS,  ETC.,  ETC., 

^rom  ©rigiual  full  f^u||t|  fahtiuu^  hi 

ALONZO  CHAPPEL. 

WITH 

BIOGRAPHICAL  AND  HISTORICAL  NARRATIVES, 

BY 

EVERT  A.  DUYCKINCK, 

EDITOB  OP  "OTOLOP^DIA  OP  AMEKIOAN  LITERATCBE,"  Eia 

IN  TWO  VOLUMES.— VOL.  IL 

NEW  YOEK: 
JOHNSON,   FRY  &  COMPANY, 

27  BEEKMAN  STREET. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1862,  by 
lOHNSON,  FRY  &  COMPANY, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


4 


CONTENTS. 

VOLUME  TWO. 

BIOGRAPHIES. 

PAGE 

LVIII.— JOHN  QUINCT  ADAMS,   ^ 

LIX.— DAVID  PORTER,  

LX  JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR  

LXI  JAMES  KENT,  

LXn  JOHN  JAMES  AUDUBON,   ^"^ 

LXm.— DEWITT  CLINTON  

LXIV.— OLIVER  HAZARD  PERRY,  

LXV— JAMES  LAWRENCE,  

LXVL— THOMAS  MACDONOUGH  

LXVII  JOHN  RANDOLPH,  

LXVin.— WASHINGTON  IRVING,  

LXIX.— ABBOTT  LAWRENCE,  -   ^^'^ 

LXX.— ANDREW  JACKSON,  

,  LXXI.— HENRY  CLAY,  

LXXII  JOHN  CALDWELL  CALHOUN,   l'^^ 

LXXm.— DANIEL  WEBSTER,   1'^^ 

LXXIV  THOMAS  HART  BENTON   19" 

LXXV  JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER,   199 

LXXVL— WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON,   211 

LXXVII.— WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRESCOTT,   221 

LXXVin.— ZACHARY  TAYLOR,  ;   231 

LXXIX.— JAMES  KNOX  POLK,   247 

LXXX.— RUFUS  CHOATE,   253 

LXXXI.-JOHN  ANTHONY  QUITMAN,   264 

LXXXH.— STEPHEN  ARNOLD  DOUGLAS,   273 

LXXXIH  JOHN  J.  CRITTENDEN,   277 

LXXXIV.— WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWARD   280 

LXXXV.— ELISHA  KENT  KANE,   284 

LXXXVI.— CHARLES  WILKES,   298 

LXXXVn.— WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH,  "   301 

LXXXVHI.— EDWIN  VOSE  SUMNER,     308 

LXXXIX— MARTIN  VAN  BUREN,     310 

iU 


iv  CONTENTS. 

PAoa 

XC— SALMON  PORTLAND  CHASE,   320 

XCL— JOHN  TYLER,   322 

XCn — JOHN  CHARLES  FREMONT,   329 

XCm— FRANKLIN  PIERCE     333 

XCIV.— ANDREW  HULL  FOOTE,   34O 

XCV — JAMES  BUCHANAN,   343 

XCVI.— MILLARD  FILLMORE,   347 

XCVII.— NATHANIEL  LYON,   361 

XCVIU.— LEWIS  CASS,   355 

xcrx.— ORMSBY  Mcknight  mitchel   362 

C— JOHN  E.  WOOL,   366 

CI.— ABRAHAM  LINCOLN   373 

CII.— WINFIELD  SCOTT,   376 

CHI— GEORGE  BANCROFT,   396 

CIV  EDWARD  EVERETT,   400 

CV.— GEORGE  BRINTON  McCLELLAN,  ,   408 

CVI.— HENRY  WAGER  HALLECK   412 

CVH.— AMBROSE  EVERETT  BURNSIDE,   416 

CVm  JOSEPH  HOOKER,   419 

CIX  BENJAMIN  F.  BUTLER,   423 

ex.— JAMES  SHIELDS,   428 

CXI.— THOMAS  FRANCIS  DUPONT,   432 

CXIL— DAVIE  GLASCOB  FARRAGUT,   436 

CXIIL— DAVID  D.  PORTER,   440 

CXrV.— HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW,   444 

CXV.— WILLIAM  STARKE  ROSECRANS,   451 

CXVL— ULYSSES  S.  GRANT,   456 

CXVH.— NATHANIEL  PRENTISS  BANKS,   459 

CXVIIL— ANDREW  JOHNSON,   462 

CXIX.— WILLIAM  CULLEN  RRYANT,   464 


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JOHN    QUINCY  ADAMS.. 


We  liave  already  traced  tlie  lineage 
of  Jolin  Qnincy  Adams.  He  comes 
nobly  heralded  upon  tlie  scene  of  our 
Revolutionary  annals.  His  stirring  re- 
lative, tlie  zealous  and  always  consist- 
ent Samuel  Adams,  the  very  front  and 
seed-plot  of  obstinate  rebellion,  had 
tauo-ht  the  mechanics  of  Boston  to 
resist,  and  his  eloquence  had  reached 
the  ears  of  men  of  influence  throughout 
the  colony  and  nation.  His  father, 
John  Adams,  thirty-two  years  old  at 
the  time  of  his  birth,  deeply  grounded 
in  the  history  of  constitutional  liberty 
and  with  the  generous  flame  of  freedom 
burning  brightly  in  his  bosom  from 
boyhood,  was  already  prepared  for  that 
warm,  enlightened,  steady  career  of 
patriotism  —  never  swerving,  always 
true  to  his  land — which  bore  him  aloffc, 
the  chosen  representative  of  New  Eng- 
land to  the  Congress  of  his  country, 
and  ultimately  to  her  highest  authority ; 
while  the  nation  in  turn  adopted  him 
her  express  image  in  the  important  ne- 
gotiations at  three  of  the  great  courts 
of  Europe. 

Nor  should  we  forget  the  tender, 
heroic  mother,  the  child  of  sensibility 
and  genius,  hardened  into  the  maturity 
and  perfection  of  the  female  character 
by  the  fire  of  the  Revolution,  the  gen- 
tle Abigail,  in  whose  fair  friendship 
n.— 1 


and  sympathies  and  feminine  graceful 
ness  posterity  has  an  ever-living  parti- 
cipation through  the  delightful  pages 
of  her  "  Correspondence." 

Of  that  family,  in  a  house  adjoining 
the  old  paternal  Braintree  home,  in  the 
present  town  of  Quincy,  at  this  immi- 
nent moment  of  the  Revolution,  John 
Quincy  Adams,  the  eldest  son,  was 
born  July  11,  1767.  He  derived  his 
baptismal  name  from  his  great-grand- 
father, John  Quincy,  the  time-honored 
representative  of  Quincy  in  the  Colo- 
nial Legislature.  The  name  was  given 
by  his  grandmother,  as  her  husband 
was  dying.  The  incident  was  not  for- 
gotten by  the  man.  He  recurred  to  it 
with  emotion,  fortified  by  a  sense  of 
duty.  In  a  sentence  cited  by  his  recent 
biographer,  the  venerable  Josiah  Quin- 
cy, he  says :  "  This  fact,  recorded  by 
my  father  at  the  time,  is  not  without  a 
moral  to  my  heart,  and  has  connected 
with  that  portion  of  my  name  a  charm 
of  mingled  sensibility  and  devotion. 
It  was  filial  tenderness  that  gave  the 
name — it  was  the  name  of  one  passing 
from  earth  to  immortality.  These  have 
been  through  life,  perpetual  admoni- 
tions to  do  nothing  unworthy  of  it." 

It  is  interesting  to  trace  the  progress 
of  the  child  in  his  mother's  correspond- 
ence, from  the  infant  lullaby  which  'sh*^ 


6 


JOHN   QTJINCY  ADAMS. 


prattles  to  her  husband,  when  "  our 
daughter  rocks  hira  to  sleep  with  the 
song,  '  Come,  papa,  come  home  to  bro- 
ther Johnny.'  The  boy  has  just  en- 
year,  and  his  father  is 
on  his  way  to  the  Continental  Congress 
at  Philadelphia,  when  she  writes:  "I 
have  taken  a  very  great  fondness  for 
reading  Eollin's  'Ancient  History,' 
since  you  left  me.  I  am  determined  to 
go  through  with  it  if  possible,  in  these 
my  days  of  solitude.  I  find  great  plea- 
sure and  entertainment  from  it,  and  I 
have  persuaded  Johnny  to  read  me  a 
page  or  two  every  day,  and  hope  he 
will,  from  his  desire  to  oblige  me,  en- 
tertain a  fondness  for  it."  The  child 
had  some  instruction  at  the  villao-e 
school,  but  he  was  especially  taught  by 
his  father's  law  students,  in  the  house. 
As  the  pressure  of  war  increases,  this 
resource  is  broken  up.  The  anxious 
mother  writes,  "  I  feel  somewhat  lonely. 
Mr.  Thaxter  is  gone  home.  Mr.  Rice 
is  going  into  the  army  as  captain  of  a 
company.  We  have  no  school.  I 
know  not  what  to  do  with  John."  In 
the  summer  of  this  year,  IT 7 5,  "  stand- 
ing," we  are  told,  "with  her  on  the 
summit  of  Penn's  Hill,  he  heard  the 
cannon  booming  from  the  battle  of 
Bunker's  Hill,  and  saw  the  flames  and 
smoke  of  burning  Charlestown.  Dur- 
ing the  siege  of  Boston  he  often  climbed 
the  same  eminence  alone,  to  watch  the 
shells  and  rockets  thrown  by  the  Ame- 
rican army."  ^  A  letter  from  the  boy 
himself,  two  years  later,  then  at  the  age 
of  ten,  exhibits  his  youthful  precocity. 
"  I  love,"  he  writes  to  his  father,  "  to 


receive  letters  very  well — much  better 
than  I  love  to  wiite  them.  I  make  but 
a  poor  figure  at  composition  ;  my  head 
is  much  too  fickle.  My  thoughts  are 
running  after  birds'  eggs,  play  and  tri- 
fles, till  I  get  vexed  with  myself  Mam- 
ma has  a  troublesome  task  to  keep  me 
steady,  and  I  own  I  am  ashamed  of 
myself  I  have  but  just  entered  the 
third  volume  of  Smollett,  thouo-h  I  had 
designed  to  have  got  half  through  it 
by  this  time.  I  have  determined  this 
week  to  be  more  diligent,  as  Mr.  Thax- 
ter will  be  absent  at  court,  and  I  can- 
not pursue  my  other  studies.  I  have 
set  myself  a  stint,  and  determined  to 
read  the  third  volume  half  out."  He 
asks  for  directions  to  proportion  his 
time  between  play  and  writing,  and  in 
a  postscript  says,  "  Sir,  if  you  will  be 
so  good  as  to  favor  me  with  a  blank 
book,  I  will  transcribe  the  most  remark- 
able occurrences  I  meet  with  in  my 
reading,  which  will  serve  to  fix  them 
upon  my  mind."  ^ 

In  this  letter  we  may  read  the  aged 
man  backward,  from  his  steadfast, 
methodical  desk  in  the  House  of 
Representatives,  to  the  little  boy  at 
his  mother's  side  in  Braintree.  The 
"childhood  shows  the  man  as  morn- 
ing shows  the  day."  He  was  an  old- 
fashioned,  studious  youth,  nurtui'ed 
amidst  grave  scenes  of  duty,  early  in 
harness,  a  resolute  worker  from  his  cra- 
dle to  his  grave. 

The  next  year  the  boy  is  taken  with 
his  father,  on  board  the  frigate  Boston, 
on  his  first  mission  to  France  ;  followed, 
in  her  first  letter  after  the  separation, 


'  Quincy's  Memoir,  p.  8. 


'  This  letter  appears  from  the  manuscript  in  Mr.  Ed- 
vard  Everett's  eloquent  Faneuil  Hall  eulogy  on  Adams. 


JOHN   QUINCY  ADAMS. 


7 


by  tins  noble  injunction  of  tlie  mother: 
"  Enjoin  it  upon  liim  never  to  disgrace 
his  mother,  and  to  behave  worthily  of 
his  father."    The  boy  is  a  little  man  on 
the  voyage,  securing  the  favor  of  the 
French  gentlemen  on  board,  who  teach 
him  theii-  language.    In   a  perilous 
storm  which  arose,  his  fiither  records 
his  inexpressible  satisftiction  at  his  be- 
havior, "  bearing  it  with  a  manly  pa- 
tience, very  attentive  to  me,  and  his 
thoughts  constantly  running  in  a  serious 
strain."    "When  they  arrive  in  France, 
and  take  up  their  lodgings  with  Ben- 
jamin Franklin  at  Passy,  he  is  put  to 
school  with  the  sage's  grandson,  Benja- 
min Franklin  Bache,  in  the  neighbor- 
hood.   At  the  close  of  this  short  sojourn 
abroad,  his  father  sums  up  his  advan- 
tages :  "  My  son  has  had  a  great  oppor- 
tunity to  see  this  country  ;  but  this  has 
unavoidably  retarded  his  education  in 
some  other  things.    He  has  enjoyed 
perfect  health  from  first  to  last,  and  is 
respected  wherever  he   goes  for  his 
vigor  and  vivacity,  both  of  mind  and 
body,  for  his  constant  good  humor  and 
for  his  rapid  progress  in  French  as  well 
as  his  general  knowledge,  which,  for 
his  ao-e,  is  uncommon."  ^    On  the  return 
voyage,  in  the  Sensible,  the  Chevalier 
de  la  Luzerne,  the  minister  to  the  Unit- 
ed States,  and  his  secretary,  M.  Marbois, 
"  are  in  raptures  with  my  son.  They 
get  him  to  teach  them  the  language.  I 
found,  this  morning,  the  ambassador 
seated  on.  the  cushion  in  our  state-room, 
M.  Marbois  in  his  cot,  at  his  left  hand, 
and  my  son  stretched  out  in  his,  at  his 
right ;   the   ambassador  reading  out 


'  Letters  of  John  Adams  to  his  wife,  II.  54. 


loud  in  Blackstone's  Discourse  at  liis  en- 
trance on  his  professorship  of  the  com- 
mon law  at  the  University,  and  my  son 
correcting  the  pronunciation  of  every 
word  and  syllable  and  letter."  ^ 

In  November,  father  and  son  are  at 
sea  ao-ain  in  the  Sensible,  on  their  re- 
turn  to  France.  This  time  they  are 
landed  in  Gallicia,  and  pursue  their 
way  through  the  northern  provinces  of 
Spain  to  the  French  frontier.  When 
the  boy's  Diary  shall  be  published, 
that  gigantic  work  which  we  are  told 
he  commenced  on  this  second  voyage, 
and  continued,  with  few  interruptions, 
through  life,  the  world  will  doubtless 
get  some  picturesque  notices  of  these 
foreign  scenes,  so  happily  sketched  in 
his  father's  note-book.  The  boy  was 
again  at  school  in  France,  and  on  his 
father's  mission  to  Amsterdam,  in  tlie 
summer,  was  placed  with  an  instructor 
under  the  wing  of  the  venerable  uni- 
versity of  Leyden,  where  in  January, 
1*781,  with  Franklin's  coiTespondent, 
Benjamin  Waterhouse,-  then  a  student 
of  medicine,  he  went  before  the  Kector 
Magnificus  and  vvas  duly  matriculated. 
His  father's  object  in  taking  him  to 
Leyden  was  to  escape  "  the  mean-spirit- 
ed wretches,"  as  he  describes  them,  the 
teachers  of  the  public  schools  at  Am- 
sterdam. 

The  youth,  however,  was  not  long  at 
the  University.  His  father's  secretary, 
Francis  Dana,  having  received  the  ap- 
pointment of  minister  to  St.  Petersburg^ 
in  July,  took  the  boy  of  fourteen  with 
him  as  Ms  secretary.  "  In  this  capa- 
city," says  Mr.  Everett,  "  he  was  recog- 

'  John  Adams'  Sea  Diary,  June  19,  1119.  Works, 
III.  214. 


8 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS 


nized  by  Congress ;  and  there  is,  per- 
haps, no  other  case  of  a  person  so  young 
being  employed  in  a  civil  office  of  trust, 
under  the  government  of  the  United 
States.  But  in  Mr.  Adams'  career 
there  was  no  boyhood."  His  know- 
ledge of  French,  indeed,  appears  to 
have  been  of  real  service  in  interpret- 
ing between  his  chief  and  the  French 
minister,  the  Marquis  de  Verac,  with 
whom  the  negotiations  were  conducted 
at  the  Russian  capital.  In  the  autumn 
of  the  succeeding  year  he  left  St.  Peters- 
burg for  a  winter  in  Stockholm,  and  in 
the  spring  travelled  alone  through 
Sweden,  Denmark  and  Germany  to  the 
Hague,  where  in  May,  lYYS,  we  hear 
of  him  in  his  father's  correspondence, 
as  again  "  pursuing  his  studies  with 
great  ardor."  He  was  present  with  his 
father  at  the  concluding  peace  negotia- 
tions at  Paris,  where  he  witnessed  the 
signing  of  the  memorable  final  treaty. 
The  greater  part  of  the  next  two  years 
was  passed  in  London  and  Paris,  where 
he  had  now  the  society  of  his  mother. 
He  is  still  the  same  vigilant  student, 
while  he  assists  his  father  as  his  secre- 
tary. "  He  is  a  noble  fellow,"  writes 
John  Adams  from  Auteuil  to  Francis 
Dana  at  the  close  of  1784,  "and  will 
make  a  good  Greek  or  Roman,  I  hope, 
for  he  spends  his  whole  time  in  their 
company,  when  he  is  not  writing  for . 
me."  1 

When  his  father  was  appointed  the 
first  minister  plenipotentiary  to  Eng- 
land, it  was  l)ut  natural  to  suppose  that 
the  secretary  who  had  shared  his  hum- 
bler labors  would  have  desired  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  full-blown  honors  of  the 

'  John  Adams'  Works,  IX.  527. 


royal  court.  There  is  not  one  youth  in 
a  thousand  who  would  have  resisted 
the  temptation.  For  what  does  John 
Quincy  Adams,  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 
after  his  responsible  duties  in  Russia, 
his  independent  sojourn  in  Stockholm, 
and  intercourse  with  the  brilliant  Ame- 
rican circles  in  Paris,  with  Franklin  at 
the  centre,  exchange  the  splendid  pro- 
spect of  life  in  the  British  metropolis  ? 
For  the  leading-strings  and  restraints 
of  Harvard,  and  a  toilsome  pupilage  at 
the  bar.  The  choice  between  inclina- 
tion and  duty  never  was  more  tempt- 
ingly jDresented.  His  own  expression 
of  the  resolve  is  too  memorable  to  be 
omitted.  "I  have  been  seven  years 
travelling  in  Europe,"  he  writes,  "  see- 
ing the  world  and  in  its  society.  If  I 
return  to  the  United  States,  I  must  be 
subject,  one  or  two  years,  to  the  rules 
of  a  college,  pass  three  more  in  the 
tedious  study  of  the  law,  before  I  can 
hope  to  bring  myself  into  professional 
notice.  The  prospect  is  discouraging. 
If  I  accompany  my  father  to  London, 
my  satisfaction  would  probably  be 
greater  than  by  returning  to  the  United 
States ;  but  I  shall  loiter  away  my  pre- 
cious time,  and  not  go  home  until  I  am 
forced  to  it.  My  father  has  been  all 
his  lifetime  occupied  by  the  interests 
of  the  public.  His  own  fortune  has 
suffered.  His  children  must  provide 
for  themselves.  I  am  determined  to 
get  my  own  living,  and  to  be  depend- 
ent upon  no  one.  With  a  tolerable 
share  of  common  sense,  I  hope  in  Ame- 
rica to  be  independent  and  free.  Ra 
ther  than  live  otherwise,  I  would  wish 
to  die  before  my  time."  ^ 

'  Quincy's  Memoir,  p.  5. 


JOHN   QUINCY  ADAMS. 


With  this  creditable  resolve  lie  bore 
witli  hi  111  from  his  father  a  letter  to 
Benjamin  Waterhoiise,  touching  his  ex- 
amination at  Harvard.    The  solicitous 
parent,  who  had  read  some   of  the 
classics  with  his  son,  and  forsaking  the 
card-table,  attempted  even  an  introduc- 
tion to   the   higher  mathematics,  in 
which  he  foiled,  candidly  admitting 
that  these  abstruse  studies  had  quite 
departed  from  him  in  thirty  years'  ut- 
ter unconsciousness  of  them,  is  anxious 
to  impress  upon  his  friend  those  gene- 
ral acquisitions  which  might  be  ob- 
scured at  an  examination  for  want  of 
some  of  the  technicalities  of  instruction. 
Thus,  while  he  had  steadily  pursued 
his  studies,  and  made  written  transla- 
tions of  the  JEneid,  Suetonius,  Sallust, 
Tacitus'  Agiicola  and  Germany,  and 
portions  of  thfe  Annals,  with  a  good 
part  of  Horace,  he  might  be  defective 
in  quantities  and  parsing.  Harvard, 
however,  was  not  likely  to  be  too  inex- 
orable in  her  demands ;  nor  was  the 
pupil  likely  to  fall  short  of  them.  Af- 
ter a  few  months'  reading  with  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Shaw  of  Haverhill,  he  was 
admitted  to  the  junior  class  in  March, 
1Y86,  and  continuing  in  the  University 
long  enough  to  leave  a  fragrant  memo- 
ry of  his  scholarship  and  good  princi- 
ples, received  his  degree  the  following 
year.      His    commencement  oration, 
which  was  published,  was  on  "  The  Im- 
portance and  Necessity  of  Public  Faith 
to  the  Well-being  of  a  Community."  . 

He  now  engaged  in  a  three  years' 
com-se  of  the  study  of  the  law,  with 
Tlieophilus  Parsons,  at  Newburyport, 
in  which  he  must  have  heard  much 
from   his  vigorous-minded  preceptor, 


who  afterwards  became  chief  justice  of 
the  State,  of  the  struggle  then  going  on 
for  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution. 
Adams  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
1790,  and  at  once,  as  he  long  afterwards 
expressed  it,  "  commenced  what  I  can 
hardly  call  the  practice  of  the  law  in 
the  city  of  Boston."    For  the  first  three 
years  he  had  the  usual  opportunity  of 
young  lawyers  for  further  study ;  and 
unlike  many  of  them,  he  availed  him- 
self of  it.    A  portion  of  his  leisui'e  was 
spent  in  the  discussion  of  the  impor- 
tant political  questions  of  the  day.  He 
answered  the  plausible  sophistries  on 
government,  of  Paine's  "  Rights  of  Man," 
in  a  series  of  essays  published  in  Rus- 
sell's  "Columbian   Centinel,"  signed 
Publicola ;  and  in  1793,  in  the  same 
journal,   urged   neutrality  upon  the 
country  in  the  contest  between  Eng- 
land and  France,  and  attacked  the  in- 
solent Genet  in  terms  of  wholesome 
indignation.    This  service,  and  doubt- 
less his  father's  great  successes  in  Hol- 
land, led  Washington's  administration 
to  appoint  him,  in  1794,  minister  to  the 
Netherlands.    His  acceptance  of  this 
honorable  position  was  at  the  cost  of  a 
rapidly  developing  legal  practice.  Ar- 
riving in  London  in  time  to  confer 
with  Jay,  whose  British  treaty  was 
then  getting  adjusted,  he  reached  Hol- 
land in  season  to  witness  the  occupa- 
tion of  the  country  by  the  French  pro- 
pagandists. He  remained  at  the  Hague, 
availing  himself  of  the  opportunities 
and  leisure  of  the  place  to  add  to  those 
stores  of  knowledge  already  consider 
able,  which  he  had  accumulated,  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  months  passed 
in  diplomatic  business  in  England  till 


10 


JOHN  QTJINCr  ADAMS. 


the  summer  of  1*797,  wlien  lie  received 
tJie  appointment  of  minister  to  Portu- 
gal. On  his  father's  occupancy  of  the 
Presidenc}'-  this  was  changed  to  the 
mission  to  Berlin.  Before  proceeding 
to  his  new  post  he  passed  over  to  Eng- 
land to  claim  the  hand  of  a  lady  to 
whom  he  had  become  engaged  on  a 
former  visit,  Miss  Louisa  Catharine 
J  olmson,  the  daughter  of  the  American 
consul  at  London. 

Adams  felt  at  first  a  natural  reluc- 
tance to  accept  an  important  office  at 
the  hands  of  his  father ;  but  his  inde- 
pendence was  reconciled  to  the  step 
when  he  learned  that  it  had  been  urged 
by  Washington  himself,  who  considered 
him  fully  entitled  by  his  previous  ser- 
vices, to  dijDlomatic  promotion.  Lie 
now  took  up  his  residence  at  Berlin. 
He  was  engaged  in  this  mission  to  the 
close  of  his  father's  administration. 
During  this  time  he  negotiated  a  treaty 
of  commerce  with  Prussia,  and  in  the 
summer  of  1800  made  a  considerable 
tour  in  Silesia.  A  number  of  letters' 
addressed  to  his  brother  in  America, 
descrij)tive  of  this  country,  were  pub- 
lished without  his  advice  in  the  "  Port 
Folio,"  and  a  few  years  after  were 
-  issued  in  a  volume  by  a  London  pub- 
lisher. In  this  collection  they  form  a 
methodically  written  work,  descriptive 
of  the  industry  and  resources  of  an  in- 
teresting country  with  a  comprehensive 
account  of  its  history  and  geography. 

Adams  also,  during  his  residence  at 
Berlin,  employed  himself  in  several 
literary  compositions,  of  which  the  most 
important  was  a  poetical  version  of 
Wieland's  "  Oberon."  He  intended 
this  for  publication,  but  found  that 


Sotheby,  the  English  translator,  had 
anticipated  him.  Several  satires  of 
Juvenal  were  also  among  his  transla- 
tions. He  moreover  prepared  for  pub- 
lication in  America,  a  treatise  of  Frede- 
rick de  Gentz,  "On  the  Origin  and 
Principles  of  the  American  Eevolution," 
which  interested  him  by  its  apprecia- 
tion of  American  principles  of  liberty, 
as  contradistinguished  from  the  license 
of  the  French  Eevolution, 

On  his  return  to  Boston,  he  turned 
his  attention  again  to  the  study  and  re- 
sumed the  practice  of  the  law.    He  was 
not,  however,  suffered  to  remain  long 
free  from  official  employment.    A  few 
months  after  his  arrival  he  was  called 
to  the  Senate  of  Massachusetts,  and 
almost  immediately  chosen  to  the  Sen- 
ate of  the  United  States.    It  was  at 
that  period  of  the  disintegration  of  the 
federal  party  when  the  old  order  of 
things  was  fast  going  out,  and  the  new 
was  not   fully  established.  Adains, 
who  was  always  inclined  to  think  for 
himself,  chose  an  independent  position. 
In  some  things,  as  the  constitutionality 
of  taking  possession  of  Louisiana,  in 
the  way  in  which  it  was  done,  he  op- 
posed the  administration  ;  in  voting  for 
the  appropriation  of  the  purchase  mo- 
ney, he  was  with  it.    When  the  promi- 
nent measures  of  Jefferson's  administra- 
tion in  reference  to  England  began  to 
take  shape  in  the  Embargo,  he  was  at 
variance  with,  his  colleague,  Mr.  Pick- 
ering.   He  was  of  opinion  that  submis- 
sion to   British,   aggression  was  no 
longer  a  virtue.    His  course,  which  was 
considered  a  renunciation  of  federalism, 
created  a  storm  in  Massachusetts,  where 
the  legislature,  in  anticipation  of  the 


JOnN   QUINCY  ADAMS. 


usual  period,  elected  a  succes^jor  to  Lis 
senatorial  term.  Upon  tliis  censure  he 
iniiuediately  resigned. 

His   retirement   Avas  cliaracteristic 
enouo-li.    He  liad  been  some  time  he- 
fore,  in  1805,  cliosen  professor  of  rhet- 
oric and  oratory  on  tlie  Boylston  foun- 
dation at  Harvard,  and  had  delivered 
his  Inaugural  the  following  year.  The 
preparation  of  these  lectures,  in  the  de- 
livery of  which  he  now  continued  to  be 
employed,  called  for  fresh  classical  stu- 
dies ;  but  to  study  he  was  never  averse, 
and  it  is  the  memorable  lesson  of  his 
career,  that  the  pursuits  of  literature 
are  not  only  the  ornament  of  political 
life,  but  the  best  safeguards  of  the  per- 
sonal dignity  of  the  politician,  when,  as 
must  sometimes  happen  with  an  inde- 
pendent man,  he  is  temporarily  thrown 
out  of  office  by  party  distractions.  If 
he  is  then  found,  as  Adams  always  was, 
making  new  acquisitions  of  learning, 
and  preparing  anew  for  public  useful- 
ness, he  must  and  will  be  respected, 
whichever  way  the  popular  favor  of  the 
moment  may  blow.    Mr.  Adams  con- 
tinued his  duties  at  Harvard,  reading 
lectures  and  presiding  over  the  exer- 
cises in  elocution  till  the  summer  of 
1809.    In  the  following  year,  his  "  Lec- 
tures on  Oratory,  delivered  to  the  Sen- 
ior and  Junior  Sophisters  in  Harvard 
University,"  were  published  at  Cam- 
brido-e.    Mr.  Edward  Everett,  who  was 
at  the  time  one  of  the  younger  students, 
bears  mtness   to   the  interest  with 
which  these  discourses  were  received, 
not  merely  by  the  collegians  but  by 
various  voluntary  listeners  from  the 
neighborhood.     "They    formed,"  he 
says,  "  an  era  in  the  University,  and 


11 

were,"  he  thinks,  "  the  first  successful 
attempt  in  the  country  at  this  form  of 
instruction  in  any  department  of  litera- 
ture." 

Immediately  upon  the  entrance  of 
Madison  upon  the  Presidency,  Adams 
received  the  appointment  of  minister 
to  Russia,  the  court  which  he  had  ap- 
proached, in  his  boyish  secretaryship, 
durino;  the  Revolution,  with  Dana.  He 
sailed  from  Boston  early  in  August, 
1809,  in  a  merchant  ship,  for  St.  Peters- 
burg ;  but  from  various  detentions,  a 
rough  passage,  and  the  vexatious  exam- 
inations of  the  British  cruisers  in  the 
Baltic,  then  blockading  Denmark,  he 
did  not  arrive  in  Russia  till  October. 
The  commercial  embarrassments,  in  the 
complicated  relations  of  the  great  'Na.- 
poleonic  wars  of  the  time,  witnessed 
on  the  voyage,  in  the  detention  and 
oppression  of  American  ships,  furnished 
his  chief  diplomatic  business  at  the 
imperial  court.    As  much  as  any  man, 
perhaps,  he  aided  in   solving  these 
international   difficulties.    He   had  a 
cordial  reception  at  court  on  his  first 
arrival,  and  as  time  wore  on,  having 
prepared  the  way  by  his  interviews 
with  Count  Romanzoff,  the  chancellor 
of  the  empire,  received  a  proffer  of 
mediation  fi^om  the  Emperor  Alexan- 
der, between  Great  Britain  and  the 
United  States,  in  the  war  which  had 
now  broken  out.    The  offer  was  ac- 
cepted at  home,  and  in  the  summer  of 
1813,  he  was  joined  at  St.  Petersburg 
by  his  fellow  commissioners,  Bayard 
and  Gallatin,  appointed  for  the  negotia-  ' 
tion.   The  mediation  was  not,  however, 
accepted  by  Great  Britain,  though  it 
I  proved  a  step  forward  to  the  final  con- 


12 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 


ferences  and  adjustment  at  Ghent. 
England  proposed  to  treat  dii-ectly  at 
Grottenbnrg  or  London.  The  American 
government  cliose  the  former,  and 
Adams  was  placed  on  the  commission 
with  Bayard,  Clay,  Kussell  and  Galla- 
tin, to  negotiate.  Before  his  arrival  on 
the  spot,  he  learnt  that  the  conference 
was  appointed  at  Ghent,  whither  he 
proceeded  in  the  summer  of  1814 ;  'and, 
after  a  protracted  round  of  diplomacy, 
had  the  satisfaction  of  signing  the 
Treaty  of  Peace  the  day  before  Christ- 
mas of  that  year.  The  scene  of  this 
event  in  that  region  which  had  wit- 
nessed his  father's  successes,  and  his 
early  entrance  upon  the  world,  and 
above  all,  the  event  itself  closing  the 
gates  of  war,  as  his  father  again  had 
signed  the  great  pacification  of  1783, 
must  have  been  peculiarly  gratifying, 
not  merely  to  his  patriotic  pride,  but 
to  the  love  of  method  which  character- 
ized his  life.  He  may  readily  have 
recognized  in  it  that  courteous  fate 
which  so  often  marked  the  career  of 
his  family.  If  there  is  a  political  as 
well  as  a  poetical  justice,  it  was  cer- 
tainly exhibited  in  the  history  of  John 
Quincy  Adams,  and  his  illustrious 
father.  The  coincidences  are  most 
striking. 

Adams  having  now  closed  his  mis- 
sion to  St.  Petersburg,  and  having  "been 
appointed  minister  to  Great  Britain, 
was  joined  by  his  family  from  Russia, 
in  Paris,  where  he  witnessed  the  return 
of  Napoleon  from  Elba,  and  the  com- 
mencement of  the  Hundred  Days.  It 
was  one  of  those  dramatic  surprises  of 
Parisian  life,  which  we  may  expect  to 
be  faithfully  represented  in  Mr.  Adams' 


Diary,  when  it  shall  be  given  to  the 
world.  We  get,  perhaps,  a  glimpse  of 
his  record  in  his  biographer,  Mr.  Quin- 
cy's  narrative.  Napoleon,  we  are  told, 
"  alighted  so  silently,  that  Mr.  Adams, 
who  was  at  the  Theatre  Franpais,  not 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  was  una- 
ware of  the  fact  till  the  next  day,  when 
the  gazettes  of  Paris,  which  had  show- 
ered execrations  upon  him,  announced 
'  the  arrival  of  his  majesty,  the  empe- 
ror, at  Ms  palace  of  the  Tuileries.'  In 
the  Place  du  Carousel,  Mr.  Adams,  in 
his  morning  walk,  saw  regiments  of 
cavalry  belonging  to  the  garrison  of 
Paris,  which  had  been  sent  out  to 
oppose  Napoleon,  pass  in  review  before 
him,  their  helmets  and  the  clasps  of 
their  belts  yet  glowing  with  the  arms 
of  the  Bourbons.  The  theatres  assumed 
the  title  of  Imperial,  and  at  the  opera 
in  the  evening,  the  arms  of  the  Empe- 
ror were  placed  on  the  curtain,  and  on 
the  royal  box." 

Adams,  again  respecting  his  father's 
precedents,  took  up  his  residence  with 
his  family  in  London.  He  was  the 
American  representative  at  the  court 
of  St.  James  for  two  years,  when  he 
was  called  by  President  Monroe  to  his 
cabinet  as  Secretary  of  State.  His 
time  in  England  was  passed  in  the  best 
society  of  books,  things  and  men. 
After  concluding  the  commercial  rela- 
tions of  the  treaty,  he  removed  from 
London  to  a  retired  residence,  at  Bos- 
ton House,  Ealing,  nine  miles  distant, 
where  he  found  time — he  could  always 
make  time — for  his  liberal  studies. 

The  year  1817  saw  him  again  in 
America,  at  Washington,  the  leading 
member  of  the  new  administration,  in 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 


the  direct  line  of  promotion  to  the 
Presidency.  Okl  part}^  lines  were  be- 
coming, or  had  already  become  extinct. 
It  was  a  period  of  fusion,  "  an  era  of 

■  good  feeling,"  as  it  came  to  be  called 
on  the  quiet  reelection  of  Monroe. 
The  chief  diplomatic  measures  of 
Adams'  secretaryship,  had  reference  to 
Spain.  He  was  always  spirited  in  his 
assertions  of  the  foreign  policy  of  the 
country,  and  on  this  occasion  was 
greatly  instrumental  in  the  negotiations 
Avhich  ended  in  the  cession  of  Florida. 
One  of  his  special  services  was  the  pre- 
paration of  an  elaborate  Eeport  on 
Weio-hts  and  Measures,  at  the  call  of 
Cono-ress.  He  devoted  six  months  of 
continuous  labor  to  this  production, 
entering  into  the  subject  philosophi- 
cally, and  in  its  historical  and  practical 
relations.  The  report  was  made  to 
Congress  in  February,  1821. 

Adams  continued  to  hold  his  secre- 
taryship through  both  terms  of  Mon- 

■  roe's  administration.  At  its  close,  he 
was  chosen  by  the  House  of  Represen- 
tatives his  successor  in  the  Presidency, 
the  vote  being  divided  between  Jack- 
son, himself,  Crawford  and  Clay,  who 
decided  the  choice  by  throwing  the 
vote  of  Kentucky  in  his  favor.  His 
adndnistration,  says  Mr.  Everett,  in  the 
address  already  cited,  "was,  in  its  prin- 
ciples and  policy,  a  continuation  of 
Mr.  Monroe's.  The  special  object  which 
he  proposed  to  himself  was  to  bind  the 
distant  parts  of  the  country  together, 
and  promote  their  mutual  prosperity 
by  increased  facilities  of  communica- 
tion." There  were  many  elements  of 
opposition  at  work  against  a  reelection, 
in  the  complicated  struggles  of  the 

n.— 2 


lb 

times.  Adams  encountered  a  full  mea 
sure  of  unpopularity  and  retired — in 
political  disaster,  as  well  as  in  diplo- 
matic triumph,  like  his  father — to  the 
shades  of  Quincy — that  long  retire- 
ment which  had  only  recently  ended  in 
death.  '  The  departure  from  the  world 
of  the  elder  Adams,  occurred  in  the 
second  year  of  his  son's  Presidency. 

Unlike  the  father,  however,  he  was 
not  to  sit  brooding  over  the  past. 
Work,  persistent  work,  was  the  secret 
of  John  Quincy  Adams'  life.  Of  a 
touo-h  mental  fibre,  there  was  no  such 
thino;  as  defeat,  while  he  had  a  mind 
to  contrive,  a  tongue  to  utter,  or  a  hand 
to  hold  the  pen.  He  was  sixty-two  at 
his  retirement  from  the  Presidency, 
within  a  few  years  of  the  age  when  his 
father  was  succeeded  by  Jelferson. 
Both  felt  the  storm  of  unprecedented 
party  spirit,  and  annoyance,  and  both 
yielded  to  great  popular  heroes. 

Literatiwe  again  offered  her  hand  to 
her  assiduous  son.  "  His  active,  ener- 
getic spirit,"  we  are  told,  "required 
neither  indulgence  nor  rest,  and  he 
immediately  directed  his  attention  to 
those  philosophical,  literary  and  reli- 
gious researches,  in  which  he  took  un- 
ceasing delight.  The  works  of  Cicero 
became  the  object  of  study,  analysis 
and  criticism.  Commentaries  on  that 
master-mind  of  antiquity  were  among 
his  daily  labors.  The  translation  of 
the  Psalms  of  David  into  English  verse 
was  a  frequent  exercise  ;  and  his  study 
of  the  Scriptures  was  accompanied  by 
critical  remarks,  pursued  in  the  spirit 
of  free  inquiry,  chastened  by  a  solemn 
reference  to  their  origin  and  influence 
on  the  conduct  and  hopes  of  human 


14 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS. 


life.  His  favorite  science,  astronomy, 
led  to  tlie  frequent  observation  of  the 
planets  and  stars ;  and  his  attention 
was  also  called  to  agricultm^e  and  hor- 
ticulture. He  collected  and  planted 
tlie  seeds  of  forest  trees,  and  kept  a 
record  of  their  development;  and,  in 
the  summer  season,  labored  two  or 
three  hours  daily  in  his  garden.  With 
these  pursuits  were  combined  sketches 
preparatory  to  a  full  biography  of  his 
father,  which  he  then  contemplated  as 
one  of  his  chief  future  employments."^ 
He  was,  however,  again  soon  called 
into  action,  being  elected,  in  November, 
1830,  by  his  district,  to  the  House  of 
Representatives.  It  was  a  novel  spec- 
tacle—an ex-president  of  the  United 
States  sitting  in  the  lower  house,  but 
it  was  fully  in  accordance  with  the 
spirit  of  our  institutions,  which  honor 
all  faithful  servants  of  the  public. 
Nor  is  it  to  be  denied  that  at  least 
equal  talent  may  be  called  for,  and 
equal  influence  exerted  in  the  discharge 
of  duties  of  public  life,  which  to  the 
eye  of  the  world  have  a  comparative 
inferiority  of  position.  Power  may  be 
wielded  by  a  representative  which  may 
govern  the  administration  itself  There 
are  many  acts  of  our  legislative  bodies 
more  potential  than  the  simple  acquies- 
cence of  the  Executive ;  as  the  origina- 
tor of  a  measure  or  line  of  policy  must 
be  of  more  consequence  than  the  instru- 
ment which  gives  it  effect.  For  more 
than  sixteen  years  Adams  labored  at 
his  seat  in  the  House.  He  was  the 
most  punctual  man  of  the  assembly, 
always  on  the  alert ;  cool,  resolute,  even 


Josiah  Quiucy's  Biography,  p.  175-6. 


pugnacious.  There  was  scarcely  a  ques- 
tion, involving  a  point  of  morality,  of 
national  honor,  or  of  literary  and  philo- 
sophical culture,  on  which  his  voice 
was  not  heard.  He  supported  the  de- 
mands of  J ackson  upon  France ;  he 
asserted  and  successfully  maintained  the 
right  of  petition  against  vast  obloquy 
and  opposition;  he  was  especially  in- 
strumental in  the  establishment  of  the 
National  Observatory,  and  the  Smithso- 
nian Institution.  A  bare  enumeration 
of  his  speeches,  writings  and  addresses, 
would  fill  the  space  assigned  to  this 
sketch — lectures  and  addresses  on 
points  of  law,  government,  history, 
biography  and  science,  moral  and 
social,  local  and  national,  before  sena- 
tors and  before  youths,  on  anniversa- 
ries of  towns,  on  eras  of  the  State* 
eulogies  on  the  illustrious  dead,  on 
Madison,  Monroe,  Lafayette,  the  oration 
at  the  Jubilee  of  the  Constitution. 

As  he  had  lived,  so  he  died  in  har- 
ness. Death  found  him  where  he  could 
have  wished  its  approach,  in  the  halls 
of  Congress.  His  robust  powers  of 
body  and  mind  had  held  out  surpris- 
ingly, as  his  vigor,  no  less  than  his 
venerable  appearance  in  the  House, 
enforced  an  authority  not  always  read- 
ily conceded  to  the  persistence  in 
unpopular  appeals  of  "the  old  man 
eloquent."  He  was  approaching  eighty : 
still  in  the  exercise  of  his  extraordinary 
faculties,  when,  in  a  recess  of  Congress, 
walking  in  the  streets  of  Boston,  in 
November,  1846,  he  was  stricken  by 
paralysis,  from  which,  nevertheless,  he 
recovered  in  time  to  take  his  seat  in 
Congress  early  in  the  year.  The  House 
rose  to  greet  him,  and  he  was  conducted 


JOHN   QUmCY  ADAMS. 


15 


to  his  chair  with  marked  honors.  He 
felt,  however,  his  approach  to  the 
grave.  There  is  a  most  touching  evi- 
dence of  this  in  the  anecdote  rehited 
by  Mr.  Everett.  His  journal,  the  diary 
of  his  long  life,  interrupted  the  day  of 
his  attack,  was  resumed  after  an  inter- 
val of  nearly  foui*  months,  with  the 
title,  "  Posthumous  Memoir."  Writing 
in  its  now  darkened  pages,  he  says  of 
the  day  when  it  was  interrupted, 
"From  that  hour  I  date  my  decease, 
and  consider  myself,  for  every  useful 
purpose  to  myself  and  fellow  creatures, 
dead;  and  hence  I  call  this,  and  what 
I  may  hereafter  write,  a  posthumous 
memoir." 

.  He  continued  in  the  House  another 
year,  when  the  final  messenger  came, 
on  Monday  morning,  the  twenty-first 
of  February,  1848.  After  passing  a 
Sunday  in  harmony  with  his  elevated 
religious  life,  he  was  observed  to  ascend 
the  steps  of  the  Gapitol  vnth  his  accus- 
tomed alacrity.  As  he  rose,  with  a 
paper  in  his  hand,  to  address  the 
Speaker  in  the  House,  he  was  seized 
by  a  return  of  paralysis,  and  fell, 
uttering,  "this  is  the  last  of  earth — 
I  am  content."  He  was  taken,  as 
the  House  adjourned^"  to  an  adja- 
cent room,  where  he  lingered  over 
Washington's  bii-thday  till  the  twenty- 


third,  when  he  died  in  the  speaker's 
apartment,  under  the  roof  of  the  Cap 
itol.  His  remains  were  taken  to  Bos- 
ton, reposed  in  state  in  old  Faneuil 
Hall,  and  were  quietly  laid  by  the 
side  of  his  parents,  in  a  grave  at 
Quincy. 

The  lesson  of  such  a  life  is  plain. 
Labor,  conscientiousness,  religious  duty; 
talent  borne  out  to  its  utmost  stretch 
of  performance  by  the  industrious  im- 
provement of  every  opportunity;  the 
self-rewarding  pursuits  of  letters  and 
science,  in  the  gratification  of  an  insar 
tiable  desire  for  knowledge ;  a  constant 
invigoration  of  the  moral  powers  by 
the  strenuous  discharge  of  duty;  inde- 
pendence bought  by  self-denial  and 
prudence,  enjoying  its  wealth — the 
calm  temper,  the  untroubled  life — in 
the  very  means  of  acquiring  it.  How 
noble  an  illustration  of  the  powers  of 
life !  When  the  correspondence  and  Di- 
ary, which  Adams  maintained  through 
his  long  life,  shall  be  published — when 
his  writings  shall  be  collected  from  the 
stray  sheets  in  which  they  have  been 
given  to  the  winds,  when  the  literary 
aids,  due  to  his  memory,  shall  be 
gathered  in  the  library  about  his  fair 
fame,  there  will  be  seen  an  enduring 
monument  of  a  most  honorable  life  of 
public  service  and  mental  activity. 


DAVID  PORTER. 


This  adventurous  liero,  the  "  Paul 
Jones  of  the  second  war  of  Indepen- 
dence, witli  a  more  capacious  and  bet- 
ter regulated  mind,"  was  born  in  Bos- 
ton, February  1,  1*780.  His  father. 
Captain  David  Porter,  commanded  a 
merchant  ship  out  of  that  port,  and 
was  distinguished  as  an  officer  of  ener- 
gy and  activity  in  the  naval  service  of 
the  Revolutionary  war.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  struggle  the  family  re- 
moved to  Baltimore,  where  the  father 
commanded  a  revenue  cutter,  and  be- 
came eno-ag-ed.  in  the  West  India  trade. 
It  was  in  one  of  these  latter  voyages 
that  his  son,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  was 
introduced  to  the  service  of  the  ocean. 

Thus  launched  on  the  deep,  a  youth 
of  courage  and  mettle,  he  made  the 
element  his  home,  and  speedily  famil- 
iarized himself  with  its  scenes  of  peril 
and  warfare.  It  was  at  that  unsettled 
period  of  our  foreign  relations,  when 
our  shipping  was  oppressed  alike  by 
our  old  enemy,  England,  and  our  recent 
ally,  France.  Aggression  was  rife  on 
all  sides.  On  this  first  voyage,  young 
Porter  was  witness  to  one  of  those  in- 
sults and  assaults.  While  in  port  at 
the  island  of  St.  Domingo,  a  press  gang 
endeavored  to  board  his  father's  vessel. 
The  assailants  were  manfully  resisted, 
with  slaughter  on  both  sides.    A  man 

16 


was  shot  down  by  the  side  of  the  youth. 
Such  was  his  introduction  to  the  mer- 
cantile service  in  1796.  On  his  next 
voyage  to  the  same  island,  which  he 
made  in  the  capacity  of  mate,  he  was 
t-wice  impressed  by  the  British,  and 
each  time  contrived  to  make  his  escape, 
reduced,  however,  to  such  circumstances 
of  privation,  that  in  his  need  he  was 
compelled  to  work  his  passage  home- 
ward in  the  winter  season,  ill  clad,  and 
exposed  to  all  the  rigors  of  a  northern 
icy  coast. 

Soon  after  reaching  home  he  applied 
for  admission  into  the  navy,  obtained 
a  midshipman's  warrant  and  joined  the 
Constellation,  Captain  Truxton,  then 
recently  put  in  commission,  and  already 
distinguished  by  her  services  on  the 
coast.  In  the  famous  action  of  this 
vessel,'  in  February,  1799,  with  the 
French  frigate^  the  Insurgente,  which 
ended  in  the  capture  of  the  latter,  mid- 
shipman David  Porter  had  command 
of  the  foretop,  a  position,  as  it  turned 
out,  of  peril  and  responsibility  in  the 
engagement.  When  the  prize  was 
taken.  Porter  was  sent  on  board  of  her 
"with  Lieutenant  Rodgers  and  eleven 
men  to  take  possession  and  remove  her 
prisoners.  Before  this  duty  could  be 
discharged,  night  came  on,  and  fi  heavy 
blow  separated   the  vessel  from  the 


4 


DAVID  PORTER. 


17 


Constellation,  leaving  tliis  little  guard 
to  control  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
tLree  unfettered  Frenclnnen.  The  hand- 
ful of  American  seamen,  however,  were 
well  officered ;  the  prisoners  were  got 
into  the  hold,  and  though   eager  to 
escape,  kept  there  by  the  superior 
resolution  and  vigilance  of  their  cap- 
tors, who,  besides  their  duty  of  work- 
ing the  ship,  watched  as  a  guard  at  the 
hatchways  for  three  days,  till  the  vessel 
was  brought  safely  to  the  Constellation 
at  St.  Kitt's.   For  this  brilliant  service, 
Porter,  at  the  time,  received  no  promo- 
tion.   Before  the  close  of  the  year, 
however,  he  Avas  made  lieutenant.  He 
served  with    honor   and  distinction 
in  the  West  India  service,  till  the 
termination   of   this   quasi-war  with 
France. 

The  terms  of  peace  with  that  nation 
were  settled  early  in  1801,  and  in  the 
spring  of  the  same  year  a  new  field  for 
our  infant  navy  was  opened  in  a  dis- 
tant quarter  of  the  world,  in  the  aggres- 
sions and  defiance  of  the  bashaw  of 
Tripoli.    Porter  sailed  to  the  Mediter- 
ranean in  the  Enterprise,  in  Commo- 
dore Dale's  squadron,  and  assisted  in 
the  capture  of  a  Tripolitan  vessel  of 
some  note.    In  May,  1803,  we  find  him 
first  lieutenant  of  Commodore  Morris' 
flag-ship,  the  New  York,  engaged  in  a 
brilliant  adventure  in  the  harbor  of  old 
Tripoli,  in  reconnoitering  and  setting 
on  fire  a  number  of  feluccas  laden  with 
wheat,  which  had  taken  refuge  under 
the  batteries  of  the  town.    In  this 
affau'  he  received  a  slight  wound  in  the 
right,  and  a  musket  ball  in  the  left 
thigh.    These  wounds  were  inflicted 
at  the  outset  of  the  attack  ;  yet  he  cou 


tinned  in  command  to  the  close  of  the 
action. 

On  his  recovery  he  was  transferred, 
in  September,  to  Captain  Bainbridge's 
frigate,  the  Philadelphia,  at  Gibraltar, 
and  speedily  returned  in  that  vessel  to 
the  scene  of  his  late  enterprise  off  Tri- 
poli.   He  was  thus  engaged  in  the 
blockade,  when  the  Philadelphia  had 
the  misfortune,  in  chasing  a  vessel  of 
the  enemy,  to  be  thrown  upon  a  reef 
at  the  entrance  of  the  harbor.  After 
the  most  heroic  efi^orts  to  escape,  and 
fio-htinff  to  the  uttermost,  the  frigate 
was  compelled  to  surrender,  and  her 
officers  and  crew  to  go  into  captivity. 
The  story  of  that  imprisonment,  pro- 
tracted for  more  than  a  year  and  a  half, 
is  a  memorable  event  in  our  national 
annals.    Its  tedious,  monotonous  en- 
durance was  broken  by  many  noble 
attempts  at  rescue  on  the  part  of  the 
American  fleet,  and  by  the  gallant  act 
of  Decatur,  in  the  burning  of  the  cap- 
tured vessel  in  the  harbor  ;  the  arrival 
of  the  Constitution,  and  the  successive 
bombardments  of  Commodore  Preble  ; 
the  fatal  explosion  of  the  Intrepid  in 
the  harbor,  sweeping  the  noble  Somers 
to  an  untimely  end — ^incidents  all  of 
which  occurred  within  sight  and  hear- 
ino-  of  the  prisoners.    Within,  the  cap- 
tives  bore  their  imprisonment  with 
equanimity,  and  waited  for  a  better 
day.    They  even  availed  themselves  of 
this  dismal  leisure  to  strengthen  them- 
selves in  the  duties  of  their  profession 
for  future  service.    By  the  kindness  of 
M.  Nissen,  the  Danish  consul,  an  excel- 
lent supply  of  books  was  furnished 
them.    These  were  read  with  avidity 
i  and  a  systematic  course  of  instruction 


18 


DAVID  PORTER. 


entered  upon  "by  the  younger  officers. 
Lieutenant  Porter  directed  these  stu- 
dies, and  made  various  acquisitions  of 
his  own  in  general  literature,  the 
French  language,  and  drawing. 

The  repeated  attacks  of  Preble,  and 
other  operations  of  the  war,  finally 
brought  the  stubborn  Tripolitans  to 
terms  of  surrender.    Peace  was  con- 
cluded June  3,  1805,  and  the  prisoners 
released.    A  naval  court  of  inquiry 
was  then  held  at  Syi'acuse,  which  exon- 
erated the  officers  from  censure  in  the 
loss  of  the  Philadelphia,  after  which 
Lieutenant  Porter  was  appointed  to 
the  command  of  the  Enterprise,  and 
cruised  along  the  African  coast  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Tripoli,  stopping  to 
indulge  his  historical  and  antiquarian 
tastes  in  a  scholar's  admiration  of  the 
Roman  remains  of  Leptis  Magna.  An 
incident  which  occurred  at  Malta,  illus- 
trates the  temper  of  the  times  with  re- 
spect to  England  and  the  resolute  spirit 
of  the  young  heroes  of  the  American 
navy.    A  foul-mouthed  British  sailor 
came  alongside  the  Enterprise,  abusing 
the  officers  and  crew,  for  which  Captain 
Porter  promptly  ordered  him  seized 
and  flogged  at  the  gangway.  The 
governor,  naturally  indignant,  ordered 
the  vessel  to  be  detained ;  but  Porter, . 
with  lighted  matches  and  the  men  at 
their  posts,  swept  by  the  forts  without 
interruption.    His  last  adventure  in 
the  Mediterranean  was  a  conflict  with 
twelve  Spanish  gunboats,  which  he 
soundly  punished  for  their  rashness  in 
attacking  him,  in  sight  of  Gibraltar. 

After  five  years'  absence  from  home 
in  the  Mediterranean,  he  returned  to 
Ameiica,  and  signalized  a  brief  interval 


of  leisure  by  marriage  to  Miss  Ander- 
son, a  lady  of  Pennsylvania.    He  was 
then  appointed  to  the  New  Orleans 
station,  where  he  was  employed  in  en- 
forcing the   embargo   and  non-inter- 
course laws.    It  may  be  noted  as 
a  curious  coincidence,  that  his  father, 
an  officer  in  the  service,  died  while 
under    his    command    on    this  sta- 
tion.    Desirous   of   exchanging  this 
locality,  which  was  injurious  to  his 
health,  for  another,  he  was  appointed 
to  the  command  of  the  Essex,  a  small 
frigate  of  thirty-two  guns.    The  actual 
breaking  out  of  the  war  which  had 
been  long  impending  with  England, 
found  him,  at  the  time  of  the  declara- 
tion of  hostilities,  in  June,  1812,  refit- 
ting his  ship  at  New  York.    In  a  few 
days  he  was  at  sea,  leaving  Sandy 
Hook  on  the  third  of  July  and  cruis- 
ing to  the  southward.    He  took  some 
prizes,  and  was  then   compelled  by 
stress  of  weather  to  change  his  course 
to  the  north.    While  off  the  banks,  as 
he  was  going  before  a  southerly  wind, 
he  came  up  with  an  English  fleet,  con- 
sisting of  a  frigate  and  bomb-vessel  con- 
ducting several  transports.    It  was  at 
night,  towards  morning,  with  a  dull 
moon  feebly  lighting  the  sea.  Coming 
up  first  with  one  of  the  transports,  he 
learnt  the  nature  of  the  fleet,  and  as 
the  ships  were  sailing  widely  apart,  he 
determined  to  push  his  vessel,  a  fast 
sailer,  to  the  frigate  in  the  van,  and 
encounter  her  as  a  prize  worthy  of  his 
steel.    The  second  transport,  as  he  came 
up,  was  suspicious  of  his  movements, 
and  was  about  to  give  the  alarm,  when 
he  threatened  a  broadside  and  quietly 
gained  possession  of  her.    She  ,was 


DAVID  PORTER. 


found  to  be  filled  with  troops.  Tlie 
convoy  sliip  mennwliile  sailed  away. 

A  few  days'  sailing  bronglit  tlie 
Essex  Avitliin  view  of  a  British  frigate, 
which  pi'oved  to  be  the  Alert,  of  twen- 
ty guns.    Captain  Pointer's  vessel  was 
at  the  time  disguised  as  a  merchant- 
man, "  her  gun-deck  ports  in,  top-gal- 
lant masts  housed,  and  sails  trimmed 
in  a  slovenly  manner."    The  English 
vessel  consequently  bore  down  upon 
her  expecting  an  easy  prize,  when  the 
Essex  knocked  out  her  ports,  opened 
fire,  and  in  emht  minutes  reduced  her 
adversary  to  a  sinking  condition.  The 
Alert,  thus  captured,  was  the  first  ship 
of  war  taken  in  the  contest.    She  was 
sent  as  a  cartel  into  St.  Johns,  with 
the  prisoners.    Captain  Porter  shortly 
after  turned  into  the  Delaware  to  re- 
plenish his  ship's  water  and  stores. 

The  Essex  was  now  attached  to  the 
squadron  of  Captain  Bainbridge,  his 
command  consisting,  in  addition,  of 
the  Constitution  and  Hornet.  The 
whole  were  to  cruise  on  the  coast  of 
Brazil,  and  thence  cross  the  Atlantic 
to  intercept  the  homeward-bound  East 
India  ships.  Bainbridge  sailed  from, 
Boston  with  his  flag-ship  and  the  Hor- 
net, on  the  26th  October,  directing  that 
the  Essex  should  follow  him  from  the 
Delaware,  stopping  at  certain  appoint- 
ed stations  of  rendezvous  on  his  grand 
route.  The  Essex  accordingly  sailed 
two  days  after  the  other  vessels,  tra- 
versing the  long  distance  to  the  equator 
without  the  opportunity  of  making  a 
priae.  Shortly  after  passing  that  line, 
however,  on  the  twelfth  of  December, 
she  captm-ed  the  JSTocton,  a  British  gov- 
ernment packet,  which  yielded  fifty-five 


thousand  dollars  in  specie  to  his  trea 
sury.  Being  heavily  laden,  the  Essex 
did  not  overtake  her  companions  at  the 
first  appointed  station,  at  the  island 
Fernando  Neronha,  which  was  reached 
a  few  days  after  the  capture  just  men- 
tioned. They  were  making  their  way 
to  St.  Salvador,  both  ships  to  secure 
their  triumphs  on  the  South  American 
coast :  one  in  the  conquest  of  the  J ava  ; 
the  other,  of  the  Peacock. 

Capt.  Porter,  after  beating  about  for 
some  time,  in  vain  efforts  to  join  his 
comrades  of  the  squadron,  the  ground, 
meanwhile,  becoming  more  dangerous, 
from  the  presence  of  British  cruisers, 
took  the  responsibility  of  deciding 
upon  his  movements  for  himself.  He 
continued  a  southerly  course,  and  the 
eastern  parts  of  the  continent  being  in 
the  English  interest,  and  consequent!  j; 
closed  to  him,  he  determined  to  double 
Cape  Horn,  and  forage  upon  the  com- 
merce of  the  enemy  in  the  Pacific. 
This  resolution  was  formed  after  he 
had  failed  to  secure  adequate  supplies 
at  the  island  of  St.  Catherines,  the  last 
place  of  rendezvous  on  the  coast  of 
Brazil,  and  in  face  of  the  thickening 
dangers  which  beset  him.  "  The  sea 
son,  to  be  sure,"  says  he  in  his  journal 
of  the  26th  of  January,  1813,  the  date 
of  his  leaving  the  island,  "  was  far  ad- 
vanced for  doubling  Cape  Horn ;  our 
stock  of  provisions  was  short,  and  the 
ship  in  other  respects  not  well  supplied 
for  so  long  a  cruise — to  the  poit  of 
Concepcion,  on  the  coast  of  Chili — ^but 
there  appeared  no  other  choice  left  for 
me,  except  capture,  starvation  or  block- 
ade ;  and  this  course,  of  all  others,  ap- 
peared to  me  the  most  justifiable,  as  it 


20 


DAVID  PORTER. 


accorded  with  the  views  of  the  honor- 
able Secretary  of  the  Navy,  as  well  as 
those  of  my  immediate  commander." 

The  Pacific  project  had,  in  fact,  been 
submitted  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy 
before  the  declaration  of  war,  and  met 
with  his  approval,  and  Commodore 
Bai  abridge  had  concurred  in  the  idea, 
provided  the  necessaiy  supply  of  pro- 
v^isions  could  be  obtained.  It  was  not, 
therefore,  an  entirely  unauthorized  ad- 
venture upon  which  the  Essex  was  pro- 
ceeding. 

The  voyage  round  Cape  Horn  was  a 
rough  prelude  to  its  better  fortunes. 
For  more  than  a  month  in  those  south- 
ern latitudes,  on  either  side  of  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  continent,  the  Essex  was 
tempest  tossed  in  that  stormy  sea. 

At  length  the  coast  of  Chili  was 
reached,  and  on  the  sixth  of  March  a 
landing  made  at  the  island  of  Mocha,  a 
not  unfriendly  though  deserted  station, 
aifording  a  supply  of  fresh  provisions 
to  the  crew,  in  the  horses  and  hogs 
Avhich  ran  wild  over  its  surface.  From 
^this  place  the  Essex  ran  down  the  coast 
with  the  hope  of  meeting  some  of  the 
enemy's  vessels  from  which  supplies 
might  be  obtained  ;  and  failing  in  this, 
struck  boldly  into  the  port  of  Valpa- 
raiso, the  captain  reluctantly  feeling 
himself  comjDelled  to  resort  to  the  ten- 
der mercies  of  the  Spanish  officials, 
from  whom  little  friendship  was  to  be 
anticipated.  Great  was  his  gratifica- 
tion on  being  received  with  eminent 
distinction.  The  Chilians  had  just 
thrown  off  their  allegiance  to  Spain, 
and  set  up  their  independence,  They 
hailed  his  national  vessel  as  a  timely 
visitant  from  a  sister  republic.  Hos- 


pitalities were  freely  extended,  and 
every  facility  afforded  of  replenishing 
his  stores.  Intent  upon  the  grand  ob- 
ject of  his  voyage,  he  did  not,  of  course, 
lino;er  long;  amidst  these  seductions. 

Stored  with  a  superfluity  of  jerked 
beef  and  other  provisions,  the  Essex 
left  the  port  eager  for  approaching  con- 
flicts. Overhauling  a  whale-ship,  the 
Charles,  of  Nantucket,  information  was 
had  from  the  captain  that  two  of  his 
consorts,  the  Barclay  and  the  Walker, 
had  been  taken  possession  of  by  a 
Spanish  and  an  English  ship  near 
the  port  of  Coquimbo.  The  Essex 
was  accordingly  hastened  on  her  way, 
in  search  of  the  aggressors.  In  no 
long  time  she  fell  in  with  a  ship  of 
war  disguised  as  a  whaler,  the  real 
character  of  which  was  at  once  detected 
by  Captain  Porter.  He  had  now  raised 
the  English  flag,  and  hailed  the  vessel, 
when  a  shot  was  fired  from  her  which 
passed  the  bow  of  the  Essex.  It  was 
responded  to  by  a  few  shot  over  the 
deck  of  the  stranger,  which  brought 
alongside  a  boat,  that  was  sent  back 
with  orders  to  her  captain  to  run  along- 
side, and  come  on  board  with  his 
papers  and  offer  an  apology  for  his 
rudeness  to  an  English  frigate.  The 
ruse  succeeded  perfectly.  The  captain 
was  ill,  but  a  lieutenant  arrrived  and 
disburdened  himself  not  only  of  the 
required  apology,  but  of  much  informa- 
tion of  a  character  exceedingly  agreea- 
ble to  the  ears  of  Captain  Porter.  He 
was  informed  that  the  vessel  before 
him  was  the  Peruvian  privateer  Nerey^ 
da,  of  fifteen  guns,  out  on  a  cruise  for 
American  vessels  ;  that  she  had  recent- 
ly cap+ured  the  two  whalers  of  which 


DAVID  PORTER. 


lie  had  lieard,  and  that  one  of  tliem, 
tlie  Walker,  had  been  taken  from  her 
bv  a  British  letter-of  marque,  the  Nim- 
rod,  and  that,  supposing  Porter's  vessel 
might  be  that  aggressor,  the  shot  had 
been  fired.    The  privateer,  apart  from 
this,  professed  the  greatest  respect  for 
the  English  flag;  his  sole  object,  in 
fact,  on  the  cruise  was  the  capture  of 
American  vessels,  of  which,  though  he 
had  been  four  months  out,  he  had 
taken  but  the  two  alluded  to,  and  that 
the  captain  of  one  of  them  was  now  on 
board  his  vesseL    Upon  hearing  this. 
Porter  sent  for  the  American  captain, 
and,  closeted  with  him  in  his  cabin, 
had  the  whole  candid  revelation  con- 
firmed.   He  then  hoisted  the  American 
flag,  to  legalize  the  capture,  and,  firing 
a  couple  of  guns,  the  "fTereyda  struck 
her  colors.    She  was  stripped  to  her 
topsails  and  courses,  and  in  that  condi- 
tion sent  back  to  Oallao  with  her  crew 
of  Spaniards,  bearing  a  message  to  the 
viceroy  of  Peru,  from  Captain  Porter, 
commendinor  her  commander  to  such 
punishment  at  the  hands  of  his  excel- 
lency as  as  his  violation  of  American 
commerce  mig-ht  deserve.    The  Ameri- 
cans  on  board  the  privateer  were  liber- 
ated ;  a  portion  of  them  joining  the 
Charles,  the  rest  volunteering  for  ser- 
vice in  the  Essex.    The  latter  then 
bore  up  for  the  northwest,  and  at  the 
entrance  to  Callao  rescued  the  Barclay, 
one  of  the  whalers  which  had  been  cap- 
tured by  the   Nereyda.    This  vessel 
now  oined  the  Essex,  and  her  captain 
proved  of  eminent  service  in  directing 
the  cruiser  to  the  haunts  of  the  enemy. 

He  was  unintentionally  seconded  in 
this  good  work  by  the  master  of  a 
n.— 3 


21 

Spanish  brig  from  Callao,  whieli  the 
Essex  met  with.  The  latter,  under  the 
English  flag,  enjoyed  again  the  most 
confidential  communication  with  the 
unsuspecting  Spaniard,  who  imparted 
much  interesting  information  regarding 
the  Eno-lish  and  other  vessels  she  had 
left  in  port. 

The   Essex   continued  her  voyage 
along  the  coast,  and  meeting  with  no- 
thing of  importance  turned  her  course 
to  the  Gallipagos   Islands,  near  the 
Equator,  a  favorite  resort  of  the  whal- 
ers.   Chatham  Island,  the  most  easterly 
of  this  group,  was  made  on  the  17th 
of  April,  and  Charles  and  Albemarle 
were  visited  in  succession,  without  re- 
sult beyond  a  curious  inspection  of 
these  remarkable  volcanic  islands  and 
the  capture  of  an  occasional  turtle  or 
land  tortoise,  till  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-ninth  brought  a  long-coveted 
sail  in  sight,  which  proved  to  be  the 
whale-ship  Montezuma,  with  fourteen 
hundred  barrels  of  spermaceti  oil.  She 
was  spoken  under  British  colors,  and 
the  captain,  being  invited  on  board, 
gave  such  information  in  the  cabin  as 
he  had  to  communicate,  while  his  crew 
were  quietly  taken  from  his  vessel  to 
the  deck  of  the  Essex.    There  were  two 
other  vessels  in  sight,  the  Georgiana, 
of  six  eighteen  pounders,  twenty-five 
men,  and  two  hundred  and  eighty  tons, 
and  the  Policy,  of  ten  six-pounders, 
twenty-six  men  and  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  tons.    Both  these  vessels 
surrendered  an  easy  prey  to  a  boarding 
party  led  by  Lieutenant  Downes,  in 
the  boats  of  the  Essex,  the  wind  be- 
coming too  light  for  the  latter  to  follow 
in  pursuit. 


DAVID  PORTER. 


t 

22 

The  gallant  leader  of  this  daring  ad- 
venture was  a  man  of  comprehensive 
mind,  whose  plans,  rapid  and  flourish- 
ing as  were  his  fortunes,  always  went 
beyond  them.  In  his  gigantic  enter- 
prise, his  single  small  frigate  expanded 
as  if  by  a  miracle  into  a  fleet,  destined 
not  onJy  to  sweep  the  commerce  of  a 
great  nation  from  an  ocean,  but  to  con- 
trol her  armed  cruisers.  The  Essex 
s^ve])t  on  her  way  with  a  tributary 
train  of  British  vessels  behind,  some 
converted  into  storeships,  others  fitted 
up  as  supplementary  vessels  of  war. 
The  Georgiana  became  thus  as  formid- 
able, in  point  of  armament,  as  any  of 
the  British  privateers  afloat  in  those 
waters.  This  prize  was  commanded 
by  Lieutenant  Downes,  who,  parting 
from  the  Essex,  in  a  cruise  among  the 
islands,  made  three  important  captures, 
with  two  of  which,  dismissing  the  third 
with  his  prisoners  on  parole,  he  very 
skilfully  managed  to  join  Captain  Por- 
ter, falling  in  with  him  again  at  Tum- 
bez,  in  the  gulf  of  Guayaquil,  whi- 
ther he  had  gone  to  procure  water  for 
his  fleet.  The  Essex  meanwhile  had 
added  to  her  conquests  two  other  Brit- 
ish whalers,  the  Atlantic  and  Green- 
wich, respectively  of  355  and  338  tons, 
24  and  25  men,  and  eight  and  ten 
guns.  The  Atlantic  having  proved  her 
qualities  as  a  good  sailer,  and  being,  in 
every  way,  a  better  ship  than  the  Geor- 
giana, was  fitted  up  with  twenty  guns, 
christened  the  Essex  Junior,  and  given 
to  Lieutenant  Downes  as  her  comman- 
der. A  few  days  after  leaving  the  har- 
bor, the  Fourth  of  July  was  celebrated 
by  a  salute  of  seventeen  guns  fired 
from   the   Essex,  Essex   Junior,  and 


Greenwich,  the  crews  spending  the  day 
in  "  the  utmost  conviviality,"  by  aid  of 
a  bountiful  supply  of  spirits  furnished 
by  the  enemy's  stores.  The  Essex  Jun- 
ior, being  now  fully  equipped,  was  pre- 
sently sent  with  four  of  the  prize  ships 
to  Valparaiso,  that  they  might  be  sold 
with  their  cargoes ;  and  this  being  ac- 
complished, Lieutenant  Downes  was 
directed  to  sail  with  supplies  to  join 
him  either  at  Banks  Island  or  at  one 
of  the  Marquesas,  whither  Captain  Por- 
ter would  proceed  with  the  Essex, 
which  now  stood  in  need  of  a  thorough 
refitting. 

The  latter,  having  with  him  the 
Georgiana  and  the  Greenmch,  now 
sailed  for  the  old  whaling  rendezvous 
of  the  Gallipagos,  in  the  waters  of 
which,  off  Banks  Bay,  a  favorite  resort, 
he  made  three  fresh  captures,  including 
the  Seringapatam,  of  fourteen  guns, 
"  the  finest  British  ship  in  those  seas," 
having  been  built  as  a  man  of  war  for 
the  renowned  Tippoo  Saib,  and  now 
commanded  by  an  enterprising  captain, 
who  had  already  taken  a  Nantucket 
whaler.  Some  six  weeks  afterwards, 
in  September,  the  Essex  had  the  good 
fortune  to  fall  in  with  the  anned 
whaler,  Sir  Andrew  Hammond,  of  301 
tons,  twelve  guns  and  thirty-one  men. 
She  was  overtaken  off  the  island  of 
Albemarle,  while  engaged  in  cutting 
up  whales.  Her  capture  completed  a 
list  of  twelve  British  privateering  ves- 
sels taken  in  a  few  months  by  Captain 
Porter  and  his  companions  in  the  Paci- 
fic. Proceeding  to  Banks  Bay  to  rejoin 
his  prizes,  he  was  there  joined  by  Lieu- 
tenant Downes,  on  his  return  from  Val- 
paraiso, in  the  Essex  Junior.  With 


DAVID  PORTER. 


23 


tliat  vessel  and  liis  little  fleet  of  prizes, 
now  consisting  of  tlie  storesliip  Green- 
wich, tlie  Seringapataiu,  tlie  Hammond, 
aiid  New  Zealander — tlie  Georgiana 
and  another  havino'  been  freie-hted 
with  oil  and  dispatched  to  the  United 
States,  two  dismissed  with  the  prison- 
ers on  parole,  and  the  rest  being  at 
Valparaiso — Captain  Porter  proceeded 
to  the  group  of  tlie  Marquesas,  which 
he  reached  on  the  twenty-tliird  of  Oc- 
tober, the  very  montli  in  which,  a  year 
before,  lie  had  sailed  from  tlie  Dela- 
ware. 

The  first  land  which  they  made  of 
the  islands  was  one  of  the  group 
claimed  to  be  discovered  some  twenty 
years  before  by  Captain  Roberts,  of 
Boston,  and  patriotically  named  by 
him  the  Washington  Islands.  There 
was  some  intercourse  of  a  friendly 
character  with  the  natives  before  the 
little  fleet  sailed  into  its  resting-place, 
a  few  leagnes  further  to  the  westward, 
in  the  bay  of  Nooalieevah.  Here  Cap- 
tain Porter,  finding  the  anchorage  good, 
the  disposition  of  the  inhabitants  favor- 
able to  his  views,  and  the  land  abun- 
dantly stored  with  the  fresh  provisions 
of  which  he  stood  so  much  in  need, 
determined  to  remain  till  the  object  of 
his  visit,  in  refitting  his  vessel,  was 
accomplished.  His  plans  at  the  outset 
were  greatly  facilitated  by  the  pre- 
sence of  an  Englishman,  who,  having 
been  many  years  on  the  island,  was 
perfectly  familiar  with  the  language, 
and  who  showed  himself  quite  willing 
to  act  as  interpreter.  He  also  found 
there,  oddly  enough,  a  midshipman  of 
the  United  States  navy  on  furlough, 
who  had  been  left  by  a  Canton  trader 


to  collect  sandal-wood  against  his  re- 
turn. With  these  introductions,  and 
the  easy  manners  of  the  tribe  who  oc- 
cupied the  bay,  the  party  soon  felt 
themselves  quite  at  home.  The  only 
difiSlculty  which  theyjhad  to  anticipate 
was  from  the  tribes  who  were  at  war 
with  one  another  in  the  valleys  which 
seamed  the  mountainous  surface  of  the 
island — the  Happahs,  and  more  formid- 
able Typees.  With  his  usual  direct- 
ness, Captain  Porter  soon  taught  these 
belligerents  a  lesson  of  fear  by  an  armed 
incursion  into  their  territories,  after 
which  he  was  perfectly  secure  in  £is 
little  settlement  on  the  shore,  and  the 
whole  island  was  tributary  to  his 
larder. 

It  was,  in  fact,  something  more  than 
a  temporary  resting-place  which  he  pro- 
posed to  establish  while  his  frigate  was 
undergoing  repairs.  He  meditated  no- 
thing less  than  a  permanent  occupa- 
tion for  his  countrymen,  and  for  this 
purpose,  on.  the  19th  November,  when 
he  had  become  somewhat  acquainted 
with  the  people,  took  possession  of  the 
island,  with  a  formal  declaration,  in 
which  he  set  forth  the  usual  claim  to 
priority  of  discovery,  conquest  and  pos- 
session ;  the  customary  good  will  of  the 
natives  who  welcomed  his  protection, 
and  the  imposing  ceremonial  of  raising 
the  flag,  firing  a  salute  from  a  fort 
which  he  had  armed  from  the  ships' 
guns,  and  burying  a  copy  of  the  instru- 
ment, with  several  United  States  coins, 
in  a  bottle  at  the  foot  of  the  flagstaff. 
This  is  the  ready  way  in  which  empires 
then  and  since  have  been  created  on 
the  bosom  of  the  broad  Pacific.  The 
proceeding  was  completed  by  naming 


DAVID 


PORTER. 


the  island,  in  honor  of  the  war  Presi- 
dent at  home,  Madison  ;  the  fort.  Fort 
Madison  ;  the  village,  Madison's  Ville, 
and  the  bay,  Massachusetts  Bay — 
names,  we  fear,  quite  lost  sight  of  by 
the  French,  who  have  since  enacted 
their  ceremonies  in  their  turn,  and  who 
now  hold  possession. 

Six  weeks  were  passed  at  the  island, 
in  refitting  the  Essex  and  in  various 
intercourse  with  the  natives,  which  was 
of  so  enticing  a  nature  that  it  required 
all  the  commander's  energy  to  with- 
draw his  men  from  this  seductive  rest- 
ing-place. After  this  exercise  of  au- 
thority, leaving  three  of  the  prizes 
moored  under  the  guns  of  the  fort,  to 
which  he  detailed  a  small  force  under 
Lieutenant  Gamble,  and  forwarding 
the  fourth  prize  to  the  United  States, 
he  set  sail  from  the  pleasant  bay  in 
company  with  the  Essex  Junior,  in 
quest  of  more  stirring  adventures  on 
the  coast  of  Chili. 

Captain  Porter,  indeed,  was  already 
aware,  by  information  brought  him  on 
the  return  of  Lieutenant  Downes  from 
Valparaiso,  of  the  warlike  preparations 
making  by  the  British  to  drive  him 
from  the  ocean.  The  frigate  Phoebe, 
thirty-six  guns,  and  the  Raccoon  and 
Cherub,  of  twenty-four  each,  were,  he 
knew,  in  search  of  him  ;  and  he  had 
no  disposition,  under  tolerably  equal 
circumstances,  to  thwart  their  endea- 
vors. Nor  was  he  unwilling  to  seek 
an  opportunity  of  acquiring  greater 
glory  in  a  conflict  with  an  armed  fri- 
gate, than  could  accrue  from  conquests, 
however  numerous,  over  less  powerfully 
protected  merchantmen.  He  accord- 
ingly sailed  along  the  South  American 


ports,  looking  in  at  Concepcion  and 
other  harbors,  and  finally  anchoring, 
on  the  third  of  February,  1814,  in  the 
bay  of  Valparaiso.  The  Essex  Junior 
was  left  to  watch  outside  for  the  arri- 
val of  the  enemy,  who  might  naturally 
be  expected  at  the  port.  With  his 
usual  gallantry.  Commodore  Porter, 
again  welcomed  to  the  city,  was  bent 
upon  returning  the  courtesies  of  the 
townspeople,  whose  entertainment  on 
board  his  vessel  had  been  inter- 
rupted on  his  previous  visit.  The 
ladies,  this  time,  were  not  disap- 
pointed of  their  dance.  Before,  how- 
ever, the  awnings  and  flags  which  had 
been  set  up  for  the  occasion  could  be 
cleared  away,  a  signal  from  the  Essex 
Junior  announced  the  arrival  of  the 
enemy's  ships,  the  Phoebe,  Captain  Hill- 
yer,  and  her  consort,  the  Cherub.  Both 
vessels  of  Porter's  command  awaited 
their  arrival  in  the  harbor,  ready  for 
action  should  an  attack  be  made,  but 
unwilling  to  take  the  initiative,  out  of 
respect  for  the  neutral  port.  As  it 
proved,  Captain  Porter's  generous  for- 
bearance on  the  occasion  was  entirely 
misplaced.  The  Phoebe  came  up  in  ad 
vance  of  her  consort,  fully  prepared  foi 
action,  drawing  close  alongside  the  Es- 
sex as  if  for  attack,  which  was  every 
moment  expected.  As  she  continued 
to  approach.  Captain  Porter  "  observed  " 
to  Captain  Hillyer,  who  had  politely 
inquired  after  Ms  health — the  two  hav- 
ing been  previously  on  the  best  of 
terms  in  the  Mediterranean— that  he 
was  ready  for  action  if  attacked,  receiv- 
ing the  reply,  "  Oh,  sir,  I  have  no  in- 
tention of  getting  on  board  of  you." 
To  this  Porter  answered,  if  he  did 


DAVID  PORTER. 


25 


there  would  be  mucli  bloodslied,  Tlie 
Britisli  officer  tlieii  renewed  liis  assur- 
ances, but  kept  neariug,  clumsily  bring- 
ing the  jib-boom  of  his  vessel  across 
the  forecastle  of  the  Essex.  This  posi- 
tion seemed  to  demand  prompt  action 
from  the  American,  and  her  boarders 
were  ready  for  their  work,  when  Cap- 
tain Hillyer  protested  so  vigorously 
that  the  attack  was  suspended.  "  At 
that  moment,"  says  Porter,  "  not  a  gun 
from  the  Phoebe  could  be  brought  to 
bear  on  the  Essex  or  Essex  Junior, 
while  her  bow  was  exposed  to  the  rak- 
ino-  fire  of  the  one,  and  her  stern  to 
that  of  the  other.  Her  consort  was 
too  far  off  to  afford  any  assistance. 
The  Phoebe  was  completely  at  my  mer- 
cy. I  could  have  destroyed  her  in  fif- 
teen minutes."  We  shall  see  how  this 
forbearance  was  rewarded. 

The  four  vessels  were  now  together 
in  harbor,  floating  side  by  side  in 
armed  neutrality,  enlivened,  however, 
by  frequent  intimations  of  defiance. 
The  Phoebe,  for  instance,  would  hoist  a 
flaof  bearino;  the  motto,  "  God  and 
country ;  British  sailors'  best  I'ights ; 
traitors  offend  both," — which,  it  was 
alleged,  was  in  reply  to  Porter's  favor- 
ite motto,  "  Free  trade  and  sailors' 
rights."  This  defiance  was  met  by  the 
American  with  the  counter  motto, "  God, 
oui'  country  and  liberty — tyrants  of- 
fend them."  While  these  taunts  were 
spread  to  the  breeze  aloft,  Jack  below 
was  engaged  in  a  pastoral  contest  of  ri- 
val songs,  sounded  from  deck  to  deck 
of  the  hostile  vessels.  Spnie  of  these 
were  original ;  others  selected  for  their 
suitability,  from  the  copious  stock  of 
the  forecastle.    "  The  songs  from  the 


Cherub,"  says  Porter,  in  the  interesting 
narrative  of  the  Cruise  of  the  Essex, 
which  he  subsequently  published,  "  were 
better  sung,  but  those  of  the  Essex  were 
more  witty  and  more  to  the  point.  The 
national  tune  of  Yankee  Doodle  was  the 
vehicle  through  which  the  crew  of  the 
Essex,  in  full  chorus,  conveyed  their 
nautical  sarcasms ;  while  The  Sweet 
Little  Cherub  that  Sits  up  Aloft,  was 
generally   selected    by    their  rivals. 
These  things  were  not  only  tolerated, 
but  encouraged  by  the  officers,  through 
the  Avhole  of  the  first  watch  of  the 
calm,  delightful  nights  of  Chili,  much 
to  the  amusement  of  the  people  of  Val- 
paraiso, and  the  frequent  annoyance  of 
the  crew  of  the  Cherub."  Captain 
Hillyer  was  inclined  to  check  this  con- 
test, but  Captain  Porter,  anxious  to 
provoke  an  engagement,  was  quite  dis- 
posed to  encourage  it ;  so  it  was  kept 
up,  "  the  poetical  effusions  of  our  op- 
ponents," humorously  records  Porter 
himself,  "  becoming  so  highly  meritori- 
ous as  to  cause  a  suspicion  of  their 
being  the  production  of  Captain  Hill- 
yer himself." 

Various  attempts  were  made  by  Cap- 
tain Porter  to  provoke  a  challenge,  or 
gain  an  opportunity  for  an  engagement 
between  the  Essex  and  Phoebe.  The 
advantage  of  armament,  it  should  be 
observed,  was  on  the  side  of  the  latter ; 
the  force  of  the  Essex  consisting  of 
forty  thirty-two  pound  carronades,  and 
six  long  twelves,  with  .  a  crew  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty-five  men ;  the  Phoebe 
mounting  thirty  long  eighteen  pounders, 
sixteen  thirty-two  pound  carronades, 
one  howitzer,  and  six  three-pounders  in 
the  tops,  with  a  complement  of  three 


36  DAVID 

hundred  and  twenty  men.    But  not- 
withstanding tliis  inequality,  the  wary 
Captain  Hillyer  would  only  contend 
wlien  he  had  clearly  an  overpowering 
superiority.     The  Cherub,  which  he 
kept  alongside  of  him,  was  far  more 
powerful  than  the  Essex  Junior.  In 
vain  Porter  would  run  out,  and  seek  to 
engage  the  Phoebe  alone;  on  one  occa- 
sion, provoking  an  encounter  by  defi- 
antly towing  out  one  of  his  prizes,  and 
burning  the  vessel  in  sight  of  the  ene- 
my.   This  came  near  bringing  on  an 
engagement,  when  the  Phoebe,  as  usual, 
ran  for  her  consort.    Captain  Hillyer 
was  prudently  waiting  for  reinforce- 
ments to  secure  his  prize.    Fully  aware 
of  the  toils  which  were  closing  in  upon 
him,  and  trusting  to  the  superior  sail- 
ing qualities  of  his   ship.  Porter  at 
length  determined  to  put  to  sea,  draw- 
ing the  British  vessels  after  him,  while 
the  Essex  Junior  could  escape  at  her 
leisure.   On  the  twenty-eighth  of  March, 
the  desired  opportunity  seemed  to  have 
arrived.    There  was  a  fresh  wind  from 
the  southward  which  carried  the  Essex 
to  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  where  the 
enemy  were  lying  in  wait.  Unhappily, 
as  the  American  was   rounding  the 
point  of  the  bay,  she  was  struck  by  a 
heavy  squall,  which  carried  away  the 
main-top-mast,  throwing  the  men  who 
were  aloft  into  the  sea,  where  they 
were  drowned.   Both  ships  then  chased 
the  Essex  into  the  neutral  waters  of 
the  bay,  where  she  took  refuge,  within 
three  miles  of  the  town,  under  the 
guns  of  a  fort,  within  pistol  shot  of 
the  shore. 

It  was  evident'  from  the  display  of 
uurtos  and  jacks  on  board  the  Phoebe, 


PORTER. 

that  she  was  moving  on  to  the  attack. 
Captain  Porter,  consequently,  prepared 
the  Essex  for  action,  and  was  endeavor- 
ing to  get  a  spring  on  his  cable,  when 
the  Phcebe,  about  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  placed  astern,  and  the  Cherub 
on  the  starboard  bow,  opened  their  fire. 
The  Cherub  presently,  also,  took  her 
station  astern.    The  enemy  had  the 
advantage  both  in  position  and  in  the 
range  of  their  guns  at  the  long  dis- 
tance, when  Captain  Poi-ter  bringing 
three  of  his  long  twelves  to  bear  from 
his  stern  ports — ^they  were  worked  so 
well,  that,  in  half  an  hour,  both  vessels 
were  compelled  to  haul  off  to  repair 
damages.    The  Essex  received  consid- 
erable damage  in  her  rigging,  while, 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  time,  help- 
lessly exposed  to  this  fire.    Three  times 
she  had  succeeded  in  getting  springs 
on  her  cables,  but  so  fierce  was  the  fire 
that  they  were  shot  away  before  the 
broadside  could  be  brought  to  bear. 
There  was  but  one  feeling,  however,  on 
her  deck  as  both  vessels  of  the  enemy 
came  up  on  the  starboard  quarter  for  a 
fresh  attack,  which  was  prudently  con- 
ducted by  her  long  range  guns  out  of 
reach  of  the  ineffective  carronades  of 
the  Essex.    The  only  resort  for  the  lat- 
ter was  to  close,  if  possible ;  but,  unfor- 
fortunately  for   any  such  movement, 
there  was  not  a  practicable  sail  left  but 
thp  flying  jib,  the  remaining  halliards 
being  ctit  away.   With  this  some  head- 
way was  made,  feebly  assisted  by  let- 
ting fall  the  foretopsail  and  foresail, 
the  tacks  and  sheets  of  which  were 
destroyed.    The  Essex  was  thus  ena- 
bled, for  a  short  time,  to  close  with 
the  enemy.    The  firinar  on  both  sides 


DAVID 

now  was  tremendous — the  decks  were 
stT•e^ved  witli  dead,  the  cock-pit  filled 
with  wounded,  and  the  ship  had  been 
several  times  on  fire,  yet  the  men  held 
on,  encouraged  by  seeing  the  Cherub 
haul  off.  But  the  Phoebe,  with  her 
long  guns  pouring  in  upon  a  disabled 
vessel,  was  a  fearful  adversary.  Guns 
were  OA^erthrown  on  board  the  Essex, 
and  the  crews  of  others  shot  away. 
The  survivors  manned  the  guns  that 
were  left.  One  gun  was  thus  three 
times  manned,  losing  fifteen  men  in  the 
action.  In  this  extremity,.  Porter  de- 
termined to  run  his  vessel  on  shore, 
and  destroy  her  rather  than  be  cap- 
tured, and  had  nearly  succeeded  in 
doing  so,  when  a  change  of  wind  drove 
him  again  upon  "the  dreadful  raking 
fire"  of  the  Phoebe.  Porter  still  hoped 
to  board.  In  the  midst  of  this  scene  of 
carnage,  the  brave  Lieutenant  Downes, 
of  the  Essex  Junior,  made  his  way 
through  the  fire  to  Captain  Porter  to 
receive  his  orders;  but  nothing  could 
be  done,  and  he  returned  to  his  own 
ship,  carrying  away  in  his  boat  several 
wounded,  and  leaving  three  of  his  crew 
to  make  room  for  them.  "  The  slaugh- 
ter on  board  my  ship,"  continues  Por- 
ter, "had  now  become  horrible,  the 
enemy  raking  us,  and  we  unable  to 
bring  a  gun  to  bear."  But  even  yet  the 
resources  of  this  skilful  mariner  were 
not  exhausted.  Ordering  a  hawser  to 
be  bent  to  the  sheet-anchor,  he  let  it 
go,  and  thus  brought  the  head  of  the 
vessel  around,  and  gained  opportunity 
for  another  broadside.  The  breaking 
of  the  hawser  put  an  end  to  this  last 
chance  of  annoying  the  enemy.  The 
Essex,  moreover,  was  on  fire  in  several 


POUTER.  27 

places,  the  flames  bursting  up  each 
hatchway  and  approaching  the  mag- 
azine. A  large  quantity  of  powder 
exploded  below.  The  boats  were  de- 
stroyed. In  mercy  to  his  men.  Captain 
Porter  directed  those  who  could  swim 
to  jump  overboard,  and  if  possible 
gain  the  shore,  abou*  three-quarters  of 
a  mile  distant.  Most  remained  with 
him  to  defend  the  ship  to  the  last.  It 
was,  indeed,  the  last  moment  when  he 
surrendered.  There  was  but  one  officer 
left  to  advise  with  him.  The  rest  were 
dead  or  horribly  wounded ;  and  as  with 
the  officers,  so  with  the  men.  The  flag 
was  struck  at  twenty  minutes  past  six 
after  an  action  of  about  two  hours  ant. 
a  half.  More  than  one-half  of  her 
entire  crew  were  killed,  M^ounded  or 
missing.  The  combat  was  witnessed, 
by  thousands  who  covered  the  sur- 
rounding hills.  Such  was  the  termina- 
tion of  Captain  Porter's  memorable 
cruise  in  the  Pacific,  ending,  indeed,  in 
disaster,  but  leaving  a  wonderful  im- 
pression of  the  resources  of  a  single 
small  ship  when  directed  by  a  com- 
manding will  and  intellect. 

Captain  Porter  was  well  treated  by 
his  captor  and  friends  at  Valparaiso, 
though  the  government  had  shown 
itself  not  well  affected  towards  him. 
In  the  disposition  which  was  made  of 
the  prisoners,  it  was  arranged  they 
should  be  sent  home  for  exchange  in 
the  Essex  Junior,  as  a  cartel.  The  lat- 
ter reached  the  American  coast  in 
safety,  when  she  was  boarded  off  New 
York  by  a  British  vessel,  and  the  pass- 
port of  Captain  Hillyer  disputed.  The 
next  morning,  while  the  cartel  was 
thus  detained.  Porter,  true  to  the  s]>irit 


23 


DAVID  PORTER. 


of  adrenture  with  wliicli  lie  liad  set 
out,  liaving  on  the  first  detention  de- 
clared himself  a  prisoner  no  longer  on 
parole,  left  the  cartel  off  the  shore  of 
Long  Island  to  make  his  escape  in  a 
boat.  The  movement  was  observed, 
but  not  in  time,  and  Porter,  under  cover 
of  a  friendly  fog,  filter  some  sixty  miles 
rowing  and  sailing  reached  the  hospi- 
table village  of  Babylon,  whence  he 
passed  to  a  triumphant  reception  at 
New  York. 

The  conclusion  of  the  war  found 
Captain  Porter  on  the  eve  of  taking 
command  of  a  squadron  of  small  ves- 
sels, got  together  for  the  annoyance  of 
the  enemy's  commerce  in  the  West 
Indies.  Peace  put  an  end  to  this 
scheme.  In  the  reorganization  of  the 
navy  which  ensued,  he  was  appointed, 
with  Commodores  Rodgers  and  Hull, 
one  of  the  thi'ee  officers  of  the  board 
of  navy  commissioners,  and  continued 
in  the  execution  of  its  important  duties 
till  1823,  when  he  was  ordered  to  the 
command  of  an  expedition  fitted  out 
by  government  to  suppress  the  syste- 
matic piracy,  which  had  for  some  time 
prevailed  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  His 
squadron  consisted  of  a  steam  galliott, 
eight  small  schooners,  and  five  barges. 
Having  his  centre  of  operations  at 
Thompson's  Island,  now  Key  West,  in 
a  few  months,  so  effective  was  his  con- 
duct of  the  force,  he  had  broken  up 
the  whole  piratical  system  on  the 
coasts  of  St.  Domingo  and  Cuba.  The 
following  year,  1824,  an  incident  oc- 
curred which  was  the  occasion  of  his 
recall.  A  robbery  of  American  pro- 
perty took  place  on  the  island  of 
St.  Thomas,  when  the  goods  were  car- 


ried by  the  pirates  into  the  port  of 
Foxardo,  in  Porto  Rico,  an  island  of  a 
bad  reputation  for  its  countenance  to 
piracy  and  privateering.  Lieutenant 
Piatt,  one  of  Commodore  Porter's  offi- 
cers, undertook  to  aid  in  the  recovery 
of  the  property.  He  accordingly  pre- 
sented himself  with  his  vessel,  the 
Beagle,  at  the  port,  was  roughly  re- 
ceived by  the  authorities,  and  even 
arrested  and  put  under  guard.  Smart- 
ing with  this  indignity  as  he  left  the 
port,  he  met  Commodore  Porter,  in  the 
John  Adams,  coming  in,  and  narrated 
his  grievances.  The  latter  determined 
to  resent  the  affair  at  once  as  a  gross 
insult  to  the  flag.  Entering  the  har- 
bor with  the  Beagle  and  Grampus,  and 
the  boats  of  the  Adams,  he  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  the  alcalde  of  the  town  de- 
manding satisfaction,  and  threatening 
reprisals  in  case  it  should  be  refused. 
One  hour  was  given  for  the  decision. 
A  shore  battery,  meanwhile,  about  to 
fire  upon  the  party,  was  silenced  by  a 
detachment  of  seamen  and  marines, 
when  Porter  landed  with  two  hundred 
men,  and  marched  against  the  town. 
An  undefended  battery  was  passed  on 
the  road,  and  a  messenger  sent  forward 
for  negotiation;  when  the  Spaniards, 
thinking  discretion  the  better  part  of 
valor,  agreed  to  present  the  required 
explanation  and  apology.  Commodore 
Porter  then  retired  with  his  party. 
For  this  prompt  vindication  of  the 
honor  of  his  country,  as  he  thought  it, 
he  was  immediately  recalled  by  his 
government,  tried  by  a  court-martial 
for  transgressing  his  orders,  and  sen- 
tenced to  suspension  from  the  service 
for  six   months.    The  decree  deeply 


DAVID  rORTER. 


29 


Avounded  the  spirit  of  the  patriot  who 
liad  served  his  country  iu  so  many 
eug-agements,  who,  in  the  words  of  his 
ih^fence,  "  had  consumed  the  flower  of 
liis  years,  and  the  vigor  of  his  life  in 
ard  uous  and,  as  he  hoped,  in  acceptable 
services ;  who  had  looked  for  approba- 
tion, if  not  honor,  as  his  reward  for  an 
unstinted  exposure  to  labors,  priva- 
tions, and  dangers  ;  so  much  the  more 
disinterested,  as,  however  beneficial  to 
his  country  and  to  mankind,  it  pro- 
mised few  of  the  personal  gratifications 
which  may  be  laudably  sought  in.  the 
reno^^'u  of  more  stiiking  and  brilliant 
aehievemeuts."  The  recollection  of 
these  thino;s  should  have  made  the  sen- 
tence  of  Porter  a  light  one.  Senator 
Benton,  who  watched  the  proceedings 
of  the  trial,  which  lie  in  the  dust  of  our 
libraries,  recorded  in  a  bulky  octavo, 
says,  that  he  was  "  hardly  dealt  with." 
The  sentence  cost  the  navy  one  of  its 
most  honored  members.  Commodore 
Porter  resigned,  left  the  country,  and 
entered  the  service  of  the  Mexican 
government  to  take  charge  of  her 
newly  formed  naval  department.  He 
remained  in  that  country  till  General 
Jackson  became  President  of  the 
United  States,  in  1829,  w^hen  h5  was 
ofiered  the  restoration  of  his  place  in 
the  navy.  He  refused  it  on  account  of 
the  old  unreversed  censure,  but  ac- 
cepted the  post  of  Consul  General  at 
Algiers.  The  French  occupation  of  the 
countiy  found  him  in  possession  of  the 
ofiice,  when  he  was  appointed  Charge 
d' Affaires  at  Constantinople.  The  ap- 
pointment was  subsequently  enlarged 
to  that  of  Resident  Minister.  It  was 
II.— 4 


the  period  of  Sultan  Mahmoud,  the 
great  Turkish  reformer,  of  whose  cha- 
racter and  acts  Commodore  Porter,  as 
his  published  letters  bear  witness, 
was  a  most  careful  and  intelligent 
observer.  This  correspondence,  origi- 
nally addressed  to  a  friend  in  New 
York,  without  view  to  publication,  was 
given  to  the  world  in  1835,  with  the 
title,  "  Constantinople  and  its  Environs, 
in  a  series  of  letters,  exhibiting  the 
actual  state  of  the  manners,  customs, 
and  habits  of  the  Turks,  Armenians, 
Jews  and  Greeks,  as  modified  by  the 
policy  of  Sultan  Mahmoud,  by  an  Ame- 
rican, long  resident  at  Constantinople." 
While  in  Turkey,  Commodore  Portei 
negotiated  several  important  treaties. 
Pie  continued  to  hold  his  position  as 
minister  till  his  death,  which  came, 
after  a  gradual  decline,  at  Pera,  a  sub- 
urb of  Constantinople,  the  twenty- 
eighth  of  March,  1843,  at  the  age  of 
sixty -three.  His  remains  were  brought 
home  in  the  ship  of  war,  Truxton,  and 
interred  in  the  grounds  of  the  Naval 
Asylum,  near  Philadelphia. 

The  late  Senator  Benton,  who  has 
given  an  animated  sketch  of  his  career, 
thus  notices  the  kindly  traits  of  the 
man :  "  Humanity  was  a  ruling  feature 
in  his  character,  and  of  this  he  gave 
constant  proof — humane  to  the  enemy, 
as  well  as  to  his  own  people.  Of  his 
numerous  captures,  he  never  made 
one  by  bloodshed  when  milder  means 
could  prevail;  always  preferring,  by 
his  superior  seamanship,  to  place  them 
in  predicaments  which  coerced  sur- 
render." Patriotism  was  a  part  of  his 
soul. 


JOHN  JAC 


OB  ASTOR. 


This  eminent  merchant,  to  whose 
liberality  the  city  of  New  York,  and 
incidentally  the  whole  country,  is  in- 
debted for  the  princely  foundation  of 
the  free  public  library  bearing  his 
name,  came  like  his  contemporary 
Girard  of  Philadelphia,  an  adventurer 
in  youth  from  the  old  world  to  the 
new.  There  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  a 
curious  parallelism  between  the  two 
men.  They  were  alike  in  some  points 
of  character,  and  in  minor  habits. 
Early  poverty  was  the  lot  of  each. 
Both  were  borne  by  industry,  self  de- 
nial, sagacity,  and  a  resolute  will,  to 
vast  fortunes.  They  were  alike  men 
of  large  commercial  views  and  grand 
resources.  Each  was  favored  in  being 
carried  onward  with  the  development 
of  the  country,  and  the  rising  welfare 
of  a  great  city.  It  has  been  their  com- 
mon felicity  to  perpetuate  their  names 
with  a  grateful  posterity  by  beneficent 
institutions  erected  by  their  bounty. 
The  Grirard  College  and  the  Astor  Li- 
brary are  the  ornaments  of  Phila- 
delphia and  ISTew  York.  In  other 
respects  the  parallel  would  fail.  Gri- 
rard lived  an  unsocial,  unsympathizing 
life,  intent  only  on  the  toil  and  profit 
which  had  become  necessities  of  his 
being  His  existence  was  without  the 
grace  and  ameliorating  influences  of 

80 


the  eminent  friendships  which  softened 
and  refined  the  career  of  Mr,  Astor; 
nor  had  he  those  family  interests  and 
affections  which  might  have  done  so 
much  to  increase  his  happiness  while 
living  and  perpetuate  his  fortunes  and 
beneficence  when  departed. 

John  Jacob  Astor  was  born  in.  the 
village  of  Waldorf,  near  Heidelberg,  in 
the  Grand  Duchy  of  Baden,  in  Ger- 
many, July  17,  1763.  His  parents 
were  of  the  laboring  peasant  class,  who 
brought  up  their  family  of  four  sons, 
of  whom  the  subject  of  this  sketch  was 
the  youngest,  to  habits  of  industry 
and  virtue.  John  Jacob  remembered 
through  life  the  lessons  which  he  had 
been  taught  on  the  farm  in  childhood, 
of  early  rising  and  simple  religious 
reading.  There  was  enterprise  and  in- 
telligence in  the  race,  for  we  find  two 
of  his  brothers  emigrants  to  England 
and  America  for  the  sake  of  bettering 
their  fortunes,  before  he  joined  them 
on  the  same  quest.  The  course  of  tra- 
vel in  the  last  century,  it  should  be 
remembered,  differed  greatly  from  the 
easy  pathway  opened  at  present.  It 
argued  then  some  force  of  character  to 
break  the  barrier  which  hemmed  in 
the  life  of  a  simple  German  peasant, 
fettered  by  his  boundaries  and  associa- 
tions.   The  young  Astor  seems  early 


Pamted  by 


''jtke/tess  c/ipzed.ly  perw2SSio7z,  fro7?van,i7riaz?iaZ-paz>7tm^  m  t?is -possession ef  tn^fajTizl)7. 
JoKTi3on.pTy&  Co.  PuhliBUers-  l^fwlork- 


s  AD  '864  hy  .himmim  Jr'r/ 


JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR. 


SI 


to  liave  felt,  ^^dtli  sometliing  of  a  pre- 
science of  liis  coming  fortunes,  that 
tliere  was  a  prosperous  career  "before 
him  in  tlie  worki,  and  that  he  had  but 
to  go  forth  to  enter  upon  it.  At  any 
rate,  at  the  as-e  of  sixteen  he  starts  on 
foot,  "  ^\dtho^lt  waiting  for  other  outfit 
than  the  clothes  he  wore,"  to  proceed 
to  the  coast  of  Holland,  with  the  de- 
sign of  reaching  his  oldest  brother,  in 
England,  who  had  some  footing  in 
London  as  a  musical  instrument  maker, 
and  who  required  his  assistance  in  the 
business.  He  found  a  Dutch  smack 
which  conveyed  him  across  the  Chan- 
nel to  the  metropolis,  where  he  met 
with  his  brother  and  at  once  engaged 
eagerly  in  his  occupation.  Their  resi- 
dence, within  the  sound  of  Bow  Bells,  af- 
forded a  hint  to  early  rising  which  these 
industrious  Germans  did  not  ne2:lect. 
"  Mr.  Astor's  own  account  of  this  period 
of  his  youth,"  we  are  told  in  a  biogra- 
phical sketch  by  one  who  knew  him 
well,  "  is  that  he  never  failed  to  rise 
and  dress  when  the  clock  struck  four, 
which  gave  him  an  hour  to  prepare  for 
his  daily  occupation,  and  much  of  this 
hour  was  regularly  devoted  to  reading 
the  Bible  and  the  Lutheran  prayer- 
book,  then  the  only  books  in  his 
library."  ^ 

■  He  had  been  for  several  years  thus 
connected  with  his  brother,  when  the 
conclusion  of  peace  with  the  United 
States  opened  America  once  more  to 
the  enterprise  of  the  old  world,  and 
perhaps  led  by  the  example  of  another 
older  brother  ab^ady  in  the  country,  he 


'  Sketch  of  Mr.  Astor  in  Emepson's  United  States  Mag- 
azine for  October,  1855. 


embarked,  in  1783,  for  that  region.  He 
carried  with  him  a  venture  made  up  1  )y 
his  brother,  of  some  hundred  dollars' 
worth  of  musical  instruments.  The  win- 
try passage  to  Baltimore  was  a  long  one 
— he  was  all  the  while  from  November 
to  the  following  March  on  shipboard,  at 
sea,  and  delayed  by  the  ice  in  the 
Chesapeake — but  it  was  not  altogether 
unprofitable,  for  an  acquaintance  which 
he  made  on  the  way  led  him  on  the 
high  road  of  his  subsequent  fortunes. 
This  was  a  German  dealer  in  furs  with 
whom  he  travelled  to  New  York,  and 
who  advised  him  to  invest  the  proceeds 
of  his  venture  in  that  prime  article  of 
American  trafiic,  as  one  which  would 
find  a  ready  market  in  London.  He 
followed  the  suggestion,  effected  the 
sale  and  purchase,  and  crossing  the  At- 
lantic with  his  new  stock,  made,  as  was 
predicted,  a  profitable  trade.  This  ap- 
pears to  have  been  his  first  mercantile 
operation  of  consequence.  It  drew  his 
attention  to  a  branch  of  traffic  which 
afterwards  became  aighly  productive 
in  his  hands,  and  which  he  conducted 
with  a  widely  extended,  liberal  enter- 
prise. In  1Y84,  after  a  residence  of 
some  months  in  London,  which  he  de- 
voted to  the  study  of  the  European 
methods  of  the  fur  trade,  he  returned 
to  America,  prepared,  by  arrangements 
with  his  brother,  to  continue  the  traffic, 
"  At  that  time,"  says  his  biographer 
abeady  cited,  "  he  had  just  completed 
his  twenty-first  year;  he  was  beginning 
life  in  a  foreign  land,  without  money 
capital,  without  powerful  connections, 
and  without  established  credit ;  but  he 
possessed  powers  and  qualities,  and 
had  formed  habits  which  made  him 


JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR. 


independent  of  capital,  connections  and 
credit— a  clear  head,  sound  judgment, 
quick  perception,  a  mind  of  tlie  most 
compreliensive  grasp,  and  a  masterly 
business  talent.  To  tliese  liigh  intel- 
lectual powers  were  joined  great  moral 
force  of  character,  a  resolute  will,  great 
self-reliance,  firmness  in  pronouncing 
the  unyielding  ISTo,  when  requisite,  the 
strict  integrity  that  inspires  confidence, 
and  the  patient  perseverance  that  in- 
sures success.  Besides  which  he  had 
the  groundwork  and  guaranty  of  pros- 
perity in  his  habits  of  life — economy, 
self  denial,  industry,  love  of  labor,  a 
proper  pride  in  his  business,  punctual- 
ity in  his  engagements,  and  above  all, 
the  careful  avoiding  of  the  thraldom 
of  debt.  It  is  to  these  properties  that 
we  must  look  for  the  elements  of  Mr. 
Astor's  extraordinary  prosperity,  and 
not  to  any  accident  of  birth  or  fortune, 
or  any  external  circumstances  of  condi- 
tion ;  his  only  advantages  of  that  kind 
were  his  fine  personal  appearance,  his 
noble  head,  his  oracular  brow,  the 
stamp  of  higher  intelligence  upon  his 
every  feature,  his  commanding,  and, 
when  he  chose,  winning  address.  His 
reliance  was  upon  himself  in  business, 
as  well  as  in  everything  else,  and  he  so 
managed  his  affairs  as  to  make  his  rap- 
idly accumulating  capital  sufficient  for 
its  constant  extension," 

The  two  great  elements  of  success 
with  Astor,  as  with  Grirard,  were  his 
industry,  combined  with  sound  judg- 
ment and  his  self-reliance.  Each 
planned  his  operations  with  consum- 
mate aljility,  and  it  was  a  rule,  at  least 
with  tlie  Frenchman,  that  whatever 
orders  he  gave  should  be  executed  to 


the  letter,  come  what  would  of  it.  In 
this  way  he  projected  his  individuality 
in  different  regions  of  the  world,  in  his 
extended  commercial  operations,  and 
his  powerful  will  was  acting  in  many 
places  with  the  same  energy  as  if  he 
were  present ;  for  it  was  his  custom 
boldly  to  carry  out  his  first  decisions. 
We  shall  see  Astor  issuing  his  com- 
mands in  his  great  enterprise  with 
marvellous  sagacity.  In  the  meantime 
he  is  patiently,  assiduously  building  up 
his  fortune  in  the  pursuit  of  the  fur 
trade,  at  the  outset  working  with  his 
own  hands,  and  performing  his  jour- 
neys to  the  distant  fi'ontiers  of  the 
country  bordering  on  Canada  and  the 
lakes  to  traffic  with  the  Indians  and 
collect  the  skins  for  his  merchandise. 
By  thrift  and  economy,  and  the  suc- 
cessful management  of  his  profitable 
trade,  he  became  gradually  wealthy, 
and  began  to  employ  his  own  vessels 
in  his  shipments,  making  his  profit  on 
both  the  outward  and  retui'u  cargo. 
The  new  openings  for  trade  with  Cana- 
da by  the  provisions  of  the  Jay  treaty 
of  IT 94,  were  turned  to  account  by 
him.  By  the  year  1800  he  had  thus 
become  possessed  of  a  fortune  of  a 
quarter  of  a  million  of  dollars. 

Taking  a  comprehensive  view  of  the 
traffic  in  furs,  he  was  anxious  to  give 
his  operations  strength  and  importance 
by  national  corporate  authority.  Some 
organization  he  thought  was  needed  to 
cope  with  the  great  British  companies 
which  still  held  the  control  of  the  trade 
with  the  Indians,  on  the  great  western 
frontier.  He  consequently  became  in 
communication  with  the  United  States 
government  ou  the  subject,  and  in  1809 


JOHN   JAOOU  ASTOR. 


33 


obtained  from  tlie  legislature  of  tlie 
State  of  New  York  a  cliarter  incorpor- 
atiuo-  the  "American  Fur  Company," 
with  a  capital  of  a  million  of  dollars, 
which  was  fui-nished  by  himself.    "  He 
in  fjict,"  says  Irving,  "  constituted  the 
company ;  for  though  he  had  a  board 
of  directors,  they  were  merely  nominal ; 
the  whole  business  was  conducted  on 
his  plans  and  with  his  resources,  but 
he  preferred  to  do  so  under  the  impos- 
ing and  formidable  aspect  of  a  corpora- 
tion, rather  than   in  his  individual 
name,  and  his  policy  was  sagacious  and 
effective."  ^    To  strengthen  his  position 
he  purchased  from  the  British  proprie- 
tors the  interests  of  the  Mackinaw  com- 
pany of  traders,  and  merged  both  that 
and  his  own  organization  into  a  new 
association  called  the  Southwest  Com- 
pany. 

The  traffic  of  the  traders  up  to  this 
time  had  been  mainly  confined  to  the 
regions  bordering  on  the  great  lakes ; 
it  was  Mr.  Astor's  ambition  greatly  to 
enlarge  this  area  by  extending  his 
operations  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific, 
Ijy  means  of  a  line  of  posts  stretching 
alouo-  the  Missouri  on  the  east,  and  the 
Columbia  on  the  west  of  the  Eocky 
mountains,  with  an  important  depot  at 
the  mouth  of  the  latter  river,  that 
would  open  a  ready  means  of  direct 
exchange  with  China,  which  afforded 
the  best  market  for  the  furs  to  be  collect- 
ed. This  of  course  involved  an  extensive 
shipping  interest  to  carry  on  the  trade 
upon  the  Pacific, 'and  to  conduct  the 
return  cargoes  from  the  East.  The 
history  of  Mr.  Astor's  great  effort  in 


'  Astoria,  p.  80 


this  direction  is  written  in  the  most 
agreeable  volume  of  adventure  by 
Washington  Irving,  entitled  "  Astoria." 

Nor  was  it  merely  as  a  trading  spec- 
ulation that  this  great  enterprise  was 
projected,  and  in  fact  accomplished. 
"  Indeed,  it  is  due  to  him  to  say,"  re- 
marks Mr.  Irving,  "that  he  was  not 
actuated  by  mere  motives  of  indivi- 
dual profit.    He  was  already  wealthy 
beyond  the  ordinary  desires  of  man, 
but  he  now  aspu'ed  to  that  honorable 
fame  which  is  awarded  to  men  of  simi- 
lar scope  of  mind,  who,  by  their  great 
commercial  enterprises,  have  enriched 
nations,  peopled  wildernesses,  and  ex- 
tended the  bounds  of  empire.    He  con 
sidered  his  projected  establishment  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  as  the  em- 
porium to  an  immense  commerce  ;  as  a 
colony  that  would  form  the  germ  of  a 
wide  civilization ;  that  would,  in  fact, 
carry  the  American  population  across 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  spread  it 
along  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  as  it 
already  animated  the  shores  of  the  At- 
lantic."   This  view  of  the  enterprise 
was  shared  by  the  government,  and  by 
Mr.  Jefferson,  always  an  intelligent  ap- 
preciator  of  the  development  of  the 
country. 

In  the  summer  of  1810,  articles  of 
agreement  were  entered  into  by  Mr. 
Astor  and  his  associates,  chiefly  drawn 
from  men  who  had  been  engaged  in 
the  British  fur  trade,  constituting 
themselves  the  "  Pacific  Fur  Company," 
with,  liberal  provisions  on  the  part  of 
the  projector,  who  was  to  supply  the 
large  capital  required  for  the  success 
of  the  undertaking.  A  twofold  expedi- 
tion was  at  once  organized,  by  sea  and 


3i 


JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR. 


laud.    A   ship,   well   furnished,  and 
e(j[uipped  with  something  of  a  military 
armament,  was  provided  to  make  the 
voyage  by  the  way  of  Cape  Horn  to 
the  Pacific,  and  take  possession  of  the 
station  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia. 
This  vessel,  named  the  Tonquin,  was 
co]nmanded  by  Lieutenant  Jonathan 
Thorn,  of  the  United  States  navy,  a 
man  of  courage  and  resolution,  and  a 
martinet  in  discipline,  who  had  served 
in  the  Tripolitan  war ;  and  with  him 
sailed  as  companions  the  leading  Cana- 
dian partners  of  the  enterprise,  one  of 
whom  was  the  special  representative 
of  Mr.  Astor  in  the  management  of  the 
business.    The  captain,  of  course,  had 
the  supreme  command  of  the  voyage. 
Various  voyageurs  and  trappers  made 
up  the  ship's  company.    For  the  hu- 
mors and  petty  vexations  of  the  jour- 
ney by  sea,  the  pertinaciously  asserted 
authority  of  the  commander,  and  the 
careless  disposition  to  enjoyment  of  his 
passengers  frequently  bringing  the  two 
parties  into  conflict,  we  must  refer  to 
the  picturesque  pages  of  Mr.  Irving, 
where  every  development  of  character 
is  eagerly  worked  into  the  cunning 
fabric  of  his  instructive  and  ever-de- 
lightful narrative,    SuflSce   it  to  say 
that  the  party  set  sail  from  New  York 
in  September,  1810,  escorted  to  sea,  out 
of  fear  of  hostile  cruisers  in  that  period 
of  incipient  war,  by  the  frigate  Consti- 
tution ;  that  they  reached  the  Sandwich 
Islands  in  safety  in  February,  and  the 
following  month  were  landed,  though 
not  without  hazard,  and  suffering  some 
severe  losses,  within  the  mouth  of  the 
Columbia.    Eight  men  were  drowned 
from  boats  in  the  surf,  in  attempts  to 


cross  the  bar  of  the  river.    After  the 
ship  had  reached  a  place  of  safety,  her 
officers  chose  a  place  for  a  settlement 
and  the  establishment  of  a  fort,  to 
which  they  gave  the  name  Astoria,  and 
opened  communication  with  the  neigh- 
boring Indians.    The  Tonquin  then,  as 
previously    arranged,   continued  her 
voyage  along  the  coast  in  a  northerly 
direction  to  Vancouver's  Island.  But 
she  had  not  been  long  away  when 
word  was  brought  by  tlie  Indians  to 
the  little  colony  she  had  left  behind,  of 
her  total  loss,  with  her  crew,  under 
circumstances  of  fearful  interest.  Cap- 
tain Thorn,  on  making  a  landing  and 
opening  trade  with  the  natives,  had 
become  disgusted  with  their  subter 
fuges  and  chicanery,  and  in  a  fit  of  pas- 
sion driven  some  of  their  leading  men 
from  the  vessel.    They  returned,  appa- 
rently unarmed,  and,  contrary  to  the 
express  orders  of  Mr.  Astor  before 
starting,  were  carelessly  admitted  in 
great  numbers.    The  gallant  comman- 
der estimated  too  lightly  his  savage 
foe.     They  procured   knives   in  ex- 
change for  the  furs  which  they  brought 
with  them,  on  the  very  deck  of  his 
vessel,  and  turned  upon  her  unsuspect- 
ing crew,  murdering  the  captain  and 
his  chief  officer.    They  were  however 
arrested  in  their  fiendish  work  for  the 
moment  by  the  remnant  of  the  ship's 
company,  who  had   gained  fire-arms 
from  below.    These  few  men,  foresee- 
ing their  fate  if  they  remained,  aban 
doned  the  ship  in  a  boat,  with  the  in 
tention  of  making  their  way  to  Astoria. 
When  the  savages  returned  to  the  ves 
sel  and  crowded  her  decks,  they  ex 
pected  an  easy  prey,  for  bu<,  one  of  her 


JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR. 


35 


old  crew  was  to  be  seen — a  wounded 
man  who  liad  refused  to  depart  with 
his  companions.  He  was  gloomily 
bent  on  a  terrible  revenge,  "Waiting 
till  the  Indians  thronged  the  vessel,  he 
lighted  a  match  below,  fired  the  maga- 
zine, and  involved  the  whole  in  one 
common  destruction.  This  occurred  in 
the  summer  of  1811. 

Meanwhile  the  overland  party,  which 
was  to  survey  the  line  of  the  trading- 
posts  and  effect  a  junction  with  their 
companions  on  the  Pacific,  led  by  Mr. 
Wilson  Price  Hunt,  upon  whom  Mr, 
Astor  placed  the  greatest  reliance  for 
the  ultimate  conduct  of  his  colony,  was 
making  its  toilsome  way  by  the  line  of 
the  Missouri  and  the  passes  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  This  expedition, 
which  numbered  many  intelligent  men, 
left  Montreal,  the  starting-point  of  their 
wanderings,  in  July,  1810,  and  did  not 
reach  Astoria  till  February,  1812. 
They  had  made  a  roundabout  journey 
from  St.  Louis  of  upwards  of  thirty-five 
hundred  miles.  They  found  on  their 
ariival  that  some  progress  was  made 
with  the  establishment  in  opening 
trading-posts  and  carrying  on  traffic 
with  the  Indians,  though  the  fortunes 
of  the  colony  were  by  no  means  as-, 
sured. 

While  these  journey ings  and  voy- 
agings  were  going  on,  Mr.  Astor,  in 
New  York,  intent  upon  his  grand 
scheme,  in  March,  1811,  dispatched  a 
confidential  agent  to  St.  Petersburg  to 
accomplish  a  negotiation  with  the 
northern  Russian  trading  settlements 
on  the  Pacific,  which  was  effected,  and 
in  ttie  autumn  of  the  same  year,  ignor- 
ant of  the  fate  of  the  first,  he  sent  a 


second  vessel,  the  Beaver,  with  sup- 
plies and  reinfoi'cements  of  men,  to  As- 
toria. In  the  following  May  this  vessel 
safely  reached  her  destination,  and  in- 
fused new  life  into  the  little  company. 
Had  Mr.  Astor's  directions  been  com- 
plied with,  all  might  have  gone  well 
with  the  colony,  wealth  would  have 
poured  into  his  coffers,  and  an  import- 
ant national  settlement  been  effected  at 
an  early  day  on  the  Pacific.  His  plans 
.were  in  every  instance  well  taken,  giv- 
ing unity  to  a  complicated  system  of 
action  reaching  across  an  unexplored 
continent,  including  a  distant  European 
negotiation  in  their  grasp,  and  extend- 
ing over  the  great  waters  of  the  globe. 
A  chain  of  trading-posts  threading  the 
defiles  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  a  great 
emporium  on  the  Pacific,  coasting  voy- 
ages securing  the  trade  of  that  ocean, 
the  sale  of  the  furs  collected  in  China, 
and  a  return  to  America  with  the  rich 
and  profitable  products  of  the  East — 
this  was  the  simple  outline  of  the 
gigantic  undertaking.  It  was  really  a 
vast,  expanded  enterprise,  worthy  the 
comprehensive  mind  of  a  great  mer- 
chant of  any  time.  Much  more  of  cour- 
age, of  adventurous  foresight,  did  it 
require  when  it  was  a  pioneer  work  in 
a  comparatively  unknown  country,  and 
moreover  beset  by  the  gravest  interna- 
tional difficulties.  All  early  explora- 
tions may  be  put  down  as  extremely 
hazardous  and  costly — seldom  resulting 
in  profit  to  their  first  projectors.  This 
in  particular  proved,  chiefly  through 
the  inefficiency  of  the  agents  and  the 
neglect  of  Government,  when  the  crisis 
arrived,  a  most  disastrous  undertak- 
ing. 


36 


JOHN  JACOB  ASTO"R.. 


The  supply  ship,  Beaver,  in  pursu- 
ance of  instructions,  continued  her 
voyage  to  the  Russian  Possessions,  car- 
rying with  her  Mr.  Hunt,  the  leading 
man  of  the  colony,  with  the  expecta- 
tion of  an  early  return  to  the  place. 
Unhappily,  the  vessel  standing  in  need 
of  some  repairs,  her  course,  after  visit- 
ing New  Archangel,  was  directed  to 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  whence  she 
proceeded  to  China  without  return- 
ing to  Astoria,  leaving  Mr.  Hunt 
at  her  stopping-place  to  wait  for 
Mr.  Astor's  next  supply  ship  to  carry 
him  to  his  post  of  duty.  While  tarry- 
ing for  this  opportunity,  word  reached 
him  of  the  breaking  out  of  the  war 
between  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain.  He  saw  at  once  the  peril  of 
Astoria,  and  chartering  a  vessel  at  a 
high  price,  proceeded  promptly  to  the 
spot — to  find  the  partners  of  the  enter- 
prise, who  were  strongly  tinctured 
with  British  interests,  McDougal,  their 
head,  never  having  lost  a  hankering  for 
his  old  Canadian  allegiance,  despond- 
ent and  on  the  eve  of  abandoning  the 
enterprise.  In  fact  an  arrangement  was 
on  foot,  which  was  afterwards  consum- 
mated, to  sell  out  the  whole  affair  to 
the  Northwest  Company,  a  British 
association,  which  had  pushed  its  agen- 
cies across  the  mountains,  maintaining 
a  rival  attitude  to  the  American  enter- 
prise. Mr.  Astor's  British  partners 
were  for  the  sale  or  virtual  surrender, 
the  Americans  of  the  company  opposed 
the  transfer;  but  the  former,  armed 
with  the  threats  of  naval  hostilities, 
which  it  was  known  were  impending, 
carried  the  day.  Shortly  after,  in  De- 
cember, 1813,  the  port  of  Astoria  was 


formally  taken  possession  of  by  the 
commander  of  a  British  cruiser. 

Thus  was  defeated  a  great  enterprise 
which  partoolj  rather  of  a  national 
than  a  private  commercial  character. 
Carried  on  by  the  will  and  resources 
of  a  single  man,  it  was  worthy  to  have 
been  the  project  of  the  State  itself. 
That  something  of  enthusiasm  of  an 
elevated  character  entered  into  the 
plans  of  Mr.  Astor,  we  have  the  testi- 
mony of  a  letter  written  by  him  to  his 
agent,  Mr.  Hunt,  on  occasion  of  send- 
ing forth  a  third  ship  with  supplies. 
"  Were  I  on  the  spot,"  he  wrote,  allud- 
ing to  the  hostile  machinations  of  the 
Northwest  Company,  "and  had  the 
management  of  affairs,  I  would  defy 
them  all ;  but,  as  it  is,  everything  de- 
pends on  you,  and  your  friends  about 
you.  Our  enterprise  is  grand  and  de- 
serves success,  and  I  hope  in  God  it 
will  meet  it.  If  my  object  was  merely 
gain  of  money,  I  should  say,  think 
whether  it  is  best  to  save  what  we  can, 
and  abandon  the  place;  but  the  very 
idea  is  like  a  dagger  to  my  heart."  ^ 

He  doubtless  bore  the  failure  of  his 
expectations  with  equanimity,  though 
he  could  not  be  insensible  to  the  disap- 
pointment. It  was  his  calculation,  it 
is  related,  that  the  enterprise  would  be 
a  bill  of  expense  for  ten  years,  and  an 
uncertain  source  of  profit  for  anothei 
like  period,  when,  having  been  full}- 
established,  it  could  produce  a  net  rev- 
enue of  a  million  dollars  a  year.  Of 
his  coolness  under  his  losses,  a  story  is 
told  by  Mr.  Irving  of  his  conduct  on 
hearing  of  the  loss  of  the  Tonqnin. 


'  Irving's  Astoria,  p.  432. 


JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR. 


37 


"  The  very  same  evening  lie  appeared 
at  tlie  theatre  -^vith  his  usual  serenity 
of  countenance.  A  friend,  who  knew 
the  disastrous  intellifvence  he  had  re- 

O 

ceived,  expressed  his  astonishment  that 
he  could  have  calmness  of  spirit  suffi- 
cient for  such  a  scene  of  lio-ht  amuse- 
ment,  '  What  would  you  have  me  do  V 
was  his  characteristic  reply;  'would 
you  have  me  stay  at  home  and  weep 
for  what  I  cannot  help  ? '  " 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  war,  Asto- 
ria, by  the  terms  of  the  treaty,  again 
fell  to  the  United  States,  though  the 
final  adjustment  of  the  territorial  rights 
of  the  region  was  delayed  for  a  longer 
period.  Had  the  Government  been 
willing  to  render  the  assistance  of  mili- 
tary protection,  Mr.  Astor  would  have 
recovered  his  undertaking.  As  it  was, 
he  abandoned  the  effort,  content  to 
wait  the  time  when  the  country  should 
awake  to  the  importance  of  a  region, 
the  value  of  which  he  had  formed  a 
due  estimate  of  in  an  early  period  of 
his  career.  The  present  town  of  Asto- 
ria, though  far  surpassed  by  other  set- 
tlements of  Oregon,  bears  witness,  in 
its  name,  to  the  daring  enterprise  of  its 
original  founder. 

This  was  Mr.  Astor's  last  great  em- 
ployment of  his  energy  and  capital  in  the 
fur  trade.  Henceforth,  his  productive 
investments  in  real  estate  in  New  York, 
and  elsewhere  in  the  country,  employed 
most  of  his  attention,  especially  in 
his  latter  years,  when  his  wealth 
increased  rapidly  with  the  growth  of 
the  city.  "  Every  year,"  says  his  biog- 
rapher already  cited,  "was  adding  to 
his  fortune — at  first,  almost  impercepti- 
bly, but,  as  the  mass  rolled   on,  it 


gathered  up  upon  a  greater  surface,  and 
increased  more  rapidly.  Few  very 
great  fortunes  were  ever  acquired  more 
in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  aggre- 
gation than  Mr.  Astor's ;  but  a  small 
portion  of  it  was  added  by  accident  or 
lucky  hits,  or  great  speculations  of  any 
kind.  He  was  its  sole  and  systematic 
architect,  and  constructed  the  edifice  on 
the  best  foundations  and  in  the  fairest 
proportions."^  At  the  time  of  his 
death,  which  occurred  in  the  city  of 
New  York,  on  the  29th  of  March, 
1848,  his  property  was  estimated  as 
the  largest  which  had  been  accumulated 
in  America,  exceeding  by  some  mil- 
lions that  of  Girard. 

By  the  terms  of  his  will  special  pro- 
vision was  made,  in  a  bequest  of  four 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  for  the  erec- 
tion and  endowment  of  a  free  public 
library — the  institution,  in  the  city  of 
New  York,  which,  thus  supported  by 
his  liberality,  bears  the  name  of  the 
Astor  Library.  It  was  a  design  of  his 
latter  years,  which  he  would  doubtless 
have  carried  out  in  his  lifetime  had  he 
not  been  pressed  by  accumulated  busi- 
ness and  growing  infirmities.  He  had, 
in  considering  the  project,  the  valuable 
assistance  of  friends  who  knew  well 
the  importance  of  the  object  and  the 
way  it  should  be  carried  out ;  for  it 
was  Mr.  Astor's  good  fortune  to  possess, 
in  the  acquaintance  of  men  like  Wash- 
mgton  Irving,  Dr.  Cogswell,  Mr.  Hal- 
leclc,  Albert  Gallatin  and  others,  the 
best  stimulus  to  his  powerful  intellect. 
He  took  delight  in  their  society,  and 
the  Astor  Library  may  be  considered, 


'  United  States  Magazine. 


v 


38 


JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR. 


in  one  liglit,  a  monument  of  this  inti- 
macy. "Desiring  to  render  a  public 
benefit  to  the  city  of  New  York,  and 
to  contribute  to  tlie  advancement  of 
useful  knowledge,  and  tke  general  good 
of  society,"  is  the  language  of  Ms  will, 
in  tke  preamble  of  tke  bequest ;  and  cer- 
tainly, as  the  event  has  already  proved, 
he  could  not  have  secured  these  ob- 
jects in  any  more  welcome  way.  The 
library  thus  founded,  and  its  original 
dimensions  doubled  by  the  continued 
liberality  of  his  son,  has  within  a  very 
few  years  taken  its  place,  not  only  at 
the  head  of  similar  institutions  in  the 
city,  but  in  the  country — a  result  owing 
to  the  fidelity  with  which  the  trust  has 
been  carried  out,  and  especially  to  the 
devoted  and  disinterested  services  of 
its  librarian  or  superintendent.  Dr.  Jo- 
seph G.  Cogswell,  whose  appointment 
to  the  control  of  the  work  was  made 
according  to  the  expressed  wish  of  the 
testator.  A  number  of  years  before 
Mr.  Astor's  death.  Dr.  Cogswell  was 
employed  in  bibliographical  studies 
preparatory  to  the  work,  forming  a 
highly  valuable  collection  of  books  in 
this  department,  which  he  has  since 
presented  to  the  library.  This,  rather 
than  the  thousand  volumes  purchased 


during  the  lifetime  of  Mr.  Astor,  was 
the  real  foundation  of  the  library. 
When  the  work  was  fairly  begun  to 
be  carried  out,  it  was  on  this  basis 
of  preparation  rapidly  extended  in  the 
most  satisfactory  manner.  Most  public 
libraries  in  their  origin  are  chance  med- 
leys, the  aggregate  of  various  acci- 
dental purchases  or  donations.  Not  so 
this.  Minerva-like,  it  started  into 
being  in  full  panoply,  each  division 
being  duly  considered  and  fairly  pro- 
vided for.  It  is  thus  the  most  symmet- 
rical library  in  the  country ;  its  wealth 
being  duly  apportioned  to  each  section 
of  literature  and  science.  K  any  pre- 
ference is  shown,  it  is  a  general  one  for 
the  more  valuable  and  less  accessible 
costly  European  works  of  original  au- 
thority, the  great  standards  of  know- 
ledge, whence  the  more  popular  manuals 
are  drawn.  An  American  author  en- 
gaged in  the  composition  of  a  work 
well  calculated  to  prove  the  resources 
of  a  large  library,  Mr.  Parke  Godwin, 
in  the  preface  to  his  history  of  France, 
records  his  acknowledgments  with  the 
remark,  that  the  country  possesses,  at 
last,  one  library  where  a  student  may 
apply  that  comprehensive  test,  the  veri- 
fication of  the  quotations  of  Gibbon. 


Ffvm.  tTi^  oruiinn/ pam,U?ii/  1^'  Ckappel,  zjl  /-^jjossession,  of  ike  pizbbsliers. 
JoTmBoii.l'ly  &  Co.  PiiblLahers,  Istew  YbrTc. 


JAMES 


KENT. 


This  eminent  jurist,  whose  services 
on  tlie  "bencli,  no  less  tlian  his  important 
contributions  to  tlie  literature  of  his 
profession,  have  secured  him  the  grati- 
tude of  his  countrymen,  presents  a  pleas- 
ing subject  for  biography.  It  is  true 
there  is  little  of  incident  to  relate,  and 
of  what  might  be  gathered  we  have 
but  scanty  materials,  in  the  absence  of 
the  promised  family  memoirs.  But  in 
all  that  is  known  and  remembered  of 
Kent,  one  impression  is  predominant : 
that  of  a  man  of  singular  simplicity 
and  purity  of  character — worthy,  in- 
deed, to  rank  in  these  respects,  as  well 
as  in  his  legal  character,  with  his  dis- 
tinguished contemporaries,  Chief  Jus- 
tice Marshall  and  Justice  Story. 

James  Kent  was  born  in  the  town 
of  Fredericks,  Putnam  County,  State 
of  New  York,  among  the  Highlands 
of  the  Hudson,  near  the  borders  of 
Connecticut,  on  the  thirty-first  of  July, 
1763.  His  grandfather,  the  Rev.  Eli- 
sha  Kent,  a  well  known  and  esteemed 
clergyman  of  Connecticut,  had  removed 
to  the  region  in  1Y40,  and  resided 
there  till  his  death.  His  father,  Moss 
Kent,  was  bred  to  the  law  and  prac- 
tised the  profession,  which  divided  his 
attention,  at  the  time  of  the  birth  of 
his  son,  with  the  farm  on  the  banks 
of  the  Croton,  where  he  resided.  The 


influences  of  nature  in  this  beautiful 
spot  were  not  likely  to  be  lost  upon 
the  heart  of  a  sensitive  child.  In  his 
later  years  he  dwelt  upon  those  associ- 
ations of  his  youth  in  his  conversation 
with  his  intimate  friends.  A  pleasing 
instance  of  these  recollections  has  been 
preserved  by  his  friend  and  eulogist, 
the  late  Judge  John  Duer,  who  was 
called  upon  to  discharge  a  debt  to  his 
memory  in  the  delivery  of  a  discourse 
on  his  life,  character  and  public  ser- 
vices, before  the  judiciary  and  bar  of 
the  city  and  State  of  New  York.  In 
this  interesting  tribute  the  following 
passage  occurs.  The  home,  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  of  Chancellor  Kent,  we 
should  premise,  during  his  last  years 
was  on  Union  Park,  where  a  fountain 
fed  by  his  native  stream,  the  Croton, 
which  had  been  brought  to  pour  its 
life-giving  refreshment  through  the 
great  city,  leaped  before  his  eyes. 
"  Several  times,"  says  Judge  Duer, 
"  within  the  last  three  years  of  his  life, 
when  the  fountain  that  adorns  the  park 
in  front  of  his  late  residence  was  in  its 
fullest  action,  and  the  waters  of  his 
native  river,  as  if  instinct  with  life  and 
voluntary  motion,  rose  in  strength  and 
majesty  before  him,  several  times  have 
I  known  him  approach  the  windows  of 
his  library  in  which  we  were  then  sit 

89 


40  JAMES 

ting,  and  there  break  forth  into  warm 
expressions  of  admiration  and  deligM. 
It  was  evident  tliat  tlie  spectacle  filled 
his  mind  with  the  most  agreeable  and. 
varied  emotions ;  for  while  it  recalled, 
as  he  said,  the  quiet  scenes  and  simple 
pleasures  of  his  youth,  it  reminded  him 
of  the  vast  progress  that  his  country- 
had  since  made  in  the  noblest  arts  and 
truest  enjoyments  of  social  and  civilized 
life.  It  was  evident  at  such  times  that 
his  boyhood  and  youth,  his  manhood 
and  age,  were  all  present  to  his  mind 
and  memory ;  and  it  was  his  high  pri- 
vilege— such  had  been  the  course  of 
his  life — it  was  his  high  privilege  that 
when  thus  recalled,  he  could  dwell 
with  feelings  of  unmingled  satisfaction 
and  devout  thoughtfulness  on  each 
period  of  his  existence.  It  is  not  sur- 
prising that  at  such  times  a  serene 
light — the  serene  light  of  a  serious  and 
chastened  joy — spread  over  his  venera- 
ble features ;  for  it  was  evident  that 
his  thoughts  and  affections  rose  in 
gratefal  adoration  to  the  Author  of  his 
being,  as  the  source  and  fountain  of  all 
the  blessings — the  many  great  and 
peculiar  blessings — that  throughout 
the  progress  and  in  each  stage  of  his 
life,  it  had  been  his  lot  to  enjoy." 

Earnest  and  ample  provision  was 
made  by  the  father  for  the  education  of 
his  son.  He  was  placed  at  the  age  of  five 
at  an  English  school  at  Norwalk,  Con- 
necticut, where  he  lived  with  his  mater- 
nal grandfather,  a  physician.  At  nine 
he  was  transferred  to  Pawling's,  in 
Dutchess  County,  to  a  school  where  he 
received  some  instruction  in  Latin, 
which  was  subsequently  improved  by 
the  Hev.  Ebenezer  Baldwin,  who  kept 


KENT. 

a  Latin  school  at  Danbury,  and  he  had 
other  special  instructors  by  whom  he 
was  qualified  for  admission  to  Yale 
College,  the  freshman  class  of  which 
he  entered  in  1111.  Thus  carefully 
nurtured  with  that  moral  as  well  as  in- 
tellectual preparation  of  the  olden  time 
in  which  clergymen,  as  in  this  case,  so 
frequently  bore  a  part — a  youth  of  in- 
genuous disposition  and  studious  hab- 
its, he  was  well  adapted  to  run  his  new 
race  with  vi^or.  His  colleo;e  course, 
however,  fell  upon  the  troubled  scenes 
of  the  Revolution,  and  the  British 
troops  taking  possession  of  New  Ha- 
ven in  his  sophomore  year,  the  college 
was  for  a  while  necessarily  broken 
up.  Falling  in,  during  this  interval 
of  forced  leisure,  for  the  first  time — 
he  was  then  only  sixteen — with  a 
copy  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries, 
he  seized  upon  this  masterly  mtroduc- 
tion  to  legal  science  with  avidity  ;  his 
genius  was  thus  early  revealed  to  him- 
self, and  he  resolved  to  devote  himself 
to  the  profession  of  the  law,  Return- 
ing to  college  when  its  exercises  were 
resumed,  he  received  his  degree  of 
Bachelor  of  Arts  in  1781,  and  immedi- 
ately entered  the  office  of  Egbert  Ben- 
son, at  Poughkeepsie.  This  eminent 
lawyer,  the  friend  of  Washington,  Jay 
and  Hamilton,  an  enlightened  patriot 
of  the  Revolutionary  and  constitutional 
era,  then  held  the  office  of  Attorney 
General  of  the  State,  and  his  influence 
and  example  were  well  calculated  to 
strengthen  the  manly  instincts  of  his 
pupil. 

Kent  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
1Y85,  and  shortly  after  began  practice 
with  Mr.  Gilbert  Livingston,  at  the 


JAMES 

same  time  taking  to  himself  a  wife, 
Miss  Elizabetli  Bailey,  wlio  became  tlie 
sharer  of  his  rising  fortunes,  and  the 
delight  and  protection   of  his  long 
career  of  successful  exertion.  Before 
the  latter,  however,  could  be  said  to  be 
fairly  entered  upon,  there  was  the  usual 
period  of  discipline  and  probation  com- 
mon to  the  young  lawyer  to  be  encoun- 
tered.   Kent  met  it  with  all  cheerful- 
ness and  diligence.    The  largest  part, 
if  not  always  the  most  important,  of  a 
man's   education,   is  the  instruction 
which  he  gives  himself    This  was  per- 
haps truer  in  the  early  days  of  Kent 
than  in  our  own.    Though  he  had  the 
honor  of  a  diploma  from  Yale,  he  was 
but  meagrely  instructed  in  the  Grreek 
and  Latin  classics,  and  he  himself  was 
perfectly  aware  of  the  deficiency.  He 
had  read  in  these  lan2;uao;es,  in  his  col- 
legiate  course,  only  the  Greek  Testa- 
ment, and  limited  portions  of  Virgil, 
Horace  and  Cicero.    To  make  amends, 
and  give  himself  a  good  working 
knowledge  of  the  tongues,  he  divided 
his  day  systematically,  and  managed  to 
secure  four  hours  for  the  purpose  before 
breakfast.    Two  of  these  he  gave  to 
Greek,  and  two  to  Latin.    The  midday 
was   assigned  to   the  law,  and  two 
hours  of  the  afternoon  were  given  to 
the  French.    He  read  Homer,  Xeno- 
phon  and  Demosthenes,  we  are  told, 
with  great  delight.    To  miscellaneous 
reading,  if  we  may  apply  so  general, 
vague,  and  unsatisfactory  a  term  to  his 
excellent  special  acquisitions,  he  was 
always  devoted.    He  was  an  earnest 
student  of  the  poetry  of  England,  and 
her  best  prose  literature,  and  an  ardent 
devourer  of  books  of  traveh 


KENT.  41 

Kent  came  upon  the  stage  at  a  time 
well  qualified  to  develop  a  great  con- 
stitutional lawyer ;  for  the  period  of 
his  legal  career  embraced  the  origin 
and  growth  of  the  Constitution  itself, 
and  his  early  intimacies  were  with  men 
who  understood  well  its  principles,  and 
were  sharers  in  its  formation.  He 
attended  the  debates  at  Poughkeepsie 
of  th*e  convention  which  sat  upon  its 
adoption,  and  listened  to  the  brilliant 
arguments  of  Hamilton.  The  princi- 
ples of  the  Federalist  we  may  pre- 
sume that  he  studied  with  earnestness, 
while  he  watched  the  development  of 
party  interests  through  the  countrj. 
"  He  became  and  declared  himself  a 
federalist,  and  this  name  (continues 
Judge  Duer)  as  expressing  most  clearly 
and  fully  the  true  nature  of  his  politi- 
cal creed,  he  gloried  throughout  his 
life  to  retain  and  avow."  His  friend- 
ship for  Hamilton  was  both  a  cause 
and  consequence  of  these  convictions, 
and  it  was  never  interrupted.  It  was 
by  Hamilton's  advice,  we  are  told,  that 
he  first  directed  his  attention  to  his 
profitable  study  of  the  French  Jurists. 

We  find  him  now  engaging  in  public 
life.  He  was  twice  elected  a  member 
of  the  State  Assembly,  in  1T90  and 
1*792,  and  was  recognized  as  a  promi- 
nent leader  of  the  federal  party.  His 
course  on  the  disputed  election  for 
governor,  when  George  Clinton  was 
maintained  in  office  over  his  rival.  Jay, 
who  it  was  alleged  had  the  majority 
vote  of  the  State,  a  division  of  opinion 
resulting  from  the  destruction  of  the 
votes  of  a  county,  secured  to  him  the 
warm  support  of  the  disappointed  can- 
I  didate.    To  the  "  discriminating  judg 


•2 


JAMES  KENT. 


ment  and  steady  friendsliip  of  Jolin 
Juy  lie  oWed,"  says  Judge  Duer,  "  his 
elevation  to  nearly  all  the  offices  that 
he  subsequently  held." 

In  1793  he  was  nominated  to  Con- 
gress in  Dutchess  County,  but,  owing 
to  a  change  in  the  local  politics,  lost  his 
election — a  result  which  was  immedi- 
ately followed  by  his  removal  to  New 
York.  Here  he  encountered  some  diffi- 
culty in  his  straitened  fortunes  ;  but  if 
practice  was  slow  in  coming,  his  legal 
abilities  were  appreciated  by  the  dis- 
cerning. The  trustees  of  Columbia 
College  appointed  him  within  the  year 
professor  of  law  in  that  institution,  and 
we  find  him  in  November,  1*794,  com- 
mencing his  course  with  an  Introduc- 
tory of  signal  ability.  This  was  pub- 
lished by  the  trustees,  and  in  the 
course  of  a  year  he  issued  in  a  volume 
three  "  Dissertations  "  preliminary  to 
his  course  on  the  common  law,  embrac- 
ing the  discussion  of  important  topics 
of  the  constitutional  history  of  the 
United  States,  and  of  the  law  of 
nations. 

The  date  of  the  introductory  lecture 
gave  the  orator  a  special  ground  of  ap- 
peal for  the  importance  of  his  theme. 
It  will  mark,  also,  the  large  period  over 
which  the  labors  of  Kent  were  extend- 
ed. In  1*794  Europe  was  in  agitation 
with  problems  which  the  intelligence 
and  foresight  of  American  patriotism 
had  already  solved,  and  that  solution 
of  the  novel  questions  was  receiving 
due  attention  abroad.  How  important 
then  that  the  youth  of  America  should 
be  instructed  in  their  privileges  at 
home,  especially  as  the  whole  guardian- 
ship of  the  public  welfare  was  intrusted 


without  reserve  to  the  people.  The 
orator  pointed  to  law  as  the  first  tutor 
of  liberty  to  the  founders  of  the  State, 
and  drew  the  inference  that  the  rudi- 
ments of  a  legal  and  senatorial  educa- 
tion in  our  country  should  be  drawn 
from  our  own  history  and  constitutions. 
He  then  passed  to  the  assertion  of  the 
value  of  courts  of  justice  as  "  the  pro- 
per and  intended  guardians  of  our 
limited  constitutions  against  the  fac- 
tions and  encroachments  of  the  legisla- 
tive body,"  as  if  in  earnest  of  the  im- 
portant aid  he  was  to  render  this  great 
cause  in  his  subsequent  career.  He 
was  but  thirty,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered when  he  accepted  the  professor- 
ship of  which  this  address  was  the  first 
fruits.  The  three  dissertations  treated 
of  the  theory,  history  and  duties  of 
civil  government ;  the  history  of  the 
American  Union  and  the  law  of  nations. 
The  delivery  of  these  and  other  lectures 
in  the  course,  and  the  publication  of 
part  of  them,  though  neither  was  so 
successful  as  to  be  continued  at  the 
time,  laid  the  foundation  of  the  author's 
reputation.  Both  were  to  be  resumed 
afterwards — the  college  lectures  and 
the  commentaries.  Happily  the  origin- 
ator lived  himself  to  reap  the  fruit  of 
his  early  labors. 

In  the  meantime,  in  February,  1*796, 
Kent  received  a  welcome  addition  to 
his  means  in  the  appointment,  by  Gov- 
ernor Jay,  of  Master  in  Chancery,  an 
office  then  lucrative,  and  he  was  the 
same  year  chosen  a  member  of  the  New 
York  legislature  by  a  city  constituency. 
An  address  which  he  delivered  before 
the  State  Society  for  the  Promotion  of 
Agriculture,  Arts  and  Manufactures,  at 


JAMBS 


KENT. 


its  anniversaiy  in  New  York,  also  gave 
him  an  opportunity  of  making  tlie  pub- 
lic acquainted  witli  liis  enliglitened 
perceptions  of  tlie  material  welfiire  of 
tlie  country.  To  liis  office  of  Master  in 
Chancery  was  joined  tlie  following 
year  that  of  recorder  of  the  city,  and 
from  the  two  he  derived  a  considerable 
income.  In  1798  he  was  still  further 
befriended  by  Jay  in  the  appointment 
of  junior  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court, 
and  thouo-h  it  was  at  some  cost  of  his 

O 

emoluments  in  relinquishing  the  posts 
which  he  held,  it  was  with  remarkable 
discretion  and  self-knowledge  that  he 
accepted  the  new  position.  He  now 
changed  his  residence  to  Poughkeepsie, 
and  subsequently  to  Albany,  which 
continued  his  home  till  1823,  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  century. 

The  reforms  which  he  introduced 
into  the  practice  of  his  court  were  of 
eminent  service  to  the  public,  and  have 
gained  him  the  highest  eulogies  of  the 
bar.  Before  his  day  there  had  been  no 
wi'itten  opinions  or  any  standard  re- 
ports of  decisions.  He  began  by  writ- 
ing out  his  opinions  in  all  reserved 
cases,  and  brought  to  his  work  such 
acumen,  and  the  results  of  such  learned 
industry  that  his  brethren  on  the  bench 
were  compelled  to  follow  his  example. 
In  this  he  brought  to  bear  his  reading 
of  the  civil  law  and  its  commentators, 
in  the  various  questions  arising  on  per- 
sonal contracts  and  commercial  and 
maritime  affairs.  In  1804  he  was 
I'aised  to  the  office  of  chief  justice  of  the 
court,  and  continued  to  preside  over  its 
deliberations  till  his  appointment  as 
Chancellor  of  the  State  in  1814. 

Of  his  career  as  judge  we  have  seve- 


ral interesting  notices  from  a  high  legal 
authority.    On  passing  througli  New 
York,  in  1805,  the  late  Justice  Story, 
then  a  rising  young  lawyer,  was  at- 
tracted to  the  Supreme  Court  at  the 
City  Hall,  where  he  found  Kent  on 
the  bench.    He  was  struck  with  his 
youthful  appearance,  celerity  and  acute- 
ness,  and  noticed  his  "  careless  manner 
of  sitting,"  which  seemed  to  him  "  to 
be  the  ease  of  a  man  who  felt  adequate 
to  the  exigencies  of  his  station."  Two 
years  later,  on  a  similar  visit,  he  notices 
again  "his    singular    plainness  and 
promptitude."    This  early  perception 
of  Kent's  ability  was  confirmed  by 
Story's  observation  of  his  decisions  and 
study  of  his  legal  writings.    As  time 
went  on,  the  New  York  lawyer  had  no 
warmer  admirer  than  the  New  England 
jurist.    Both  had  points  of  personal 
as  well   as   professional  contact ;  in 
their  amiability,  capacity  for  friendship, 
and  the  purity  and  intensity  of  their 
domestic  life,  as  well  as  in  that  taste 
for  general  culture  which  has  always 
been  an  ornament  if  not  a  necessity  to 
the  higher  members  of  the  profession. 
They  were  always  generous  appreciat- 
ors  of  each  other's  labors,  dividing  the 
field  of  legal  commentary  with  emula- 
tion and  without  envy.    Nothing  can 
be  more  cordial  than  the  friendly  let- 
ters which  passed  between  them  as  the 
new  volumes  of  their  writings  ap- 
peared. 

What  Kent  had  accomplished  in  the 
Supreme  Court  for  the  common  law,  he 
was  destined  to  renew  in  the  Court  of 
Chancery.  In  a  review  of  Johnson's 
Reports,  in  which  his  decisions  are  re- 
corded, written  by  Joseph  Story  for 


44 


JAMES  KENT. 


tlie  "  Noi-tli  American  Review,"  in 
1820,  he  pays  this  tribute  to  the  ser- 
vices of  Chancellor  Kent,  his  fellow- 
laborer  in  this  great  work,  "  He  has 
been,"  says  he,  "  long  before  the  piiblic 
in  a  judicial  character,  which  he  has 
sustained  with  increasing  reputation — 
a  reputation  as  pure  as  it  is  bright. 
His  life  has  been  devoted  sedulously 
and  earnestly  to  professional  studies. 
His  researches  have  been  amidst  the 
dust  and  the  cobwebs  of  antiquated 
lore,  pursued  in  the  unfashionable 
pages  of  the  Year  Books,  and  Glan- 
ville  and  Fleta,  and  Britton,  and  the 
almost  classical  Bracton.  He  has  dared 
to  examine  the  abridgments  of  Brook 
and  Fitzherbert  and  Statham.  He 
has  drawn  deeply  from  the  commercial 
law  of  foreign  nations ;  the  works  of 
Straccha,  and  Roccus,  and  Valin,  and 
Pothier,  and  Emerigon,  are  familiar  to 
his  thoughts  and  his  writings.  It  re- 
quired," he  adds,  looking  at  the  state 
of  the  chancery  bar  as  it  was  before 
Kent's  day,  "  such  a  man,  with  such  a 
mind,  at  once  liberal,  comprehensive, 
exact  and  methodical,  always  reverenc- 
ing authorities,  and  bound  by  decisions ; 
true  to  the  spirit,  yet  more  true  to  the 
letter  of  the  ■^law  ;  pursuing  principles 
with  a  severe  and  scrupulous  logic,  yet 
blending  with  them  the  most  persua- 
sive equity  ; — it  required  such  a  man, 
with  such  a  mind,  to  unfold  the  doc- 
trines of  chancery  in  our  country  and 
to  settle  them  upon  immovable  founda- 
tions." He  so  enlarged  and  improved 
the  Chancery  Court  of  New  York  that 
under  his  administration  it  may  be 
said  to  have  been  a  new  creation.  He 
was  chancellor  for  but  nine  years,  at 


the  end  of  that  time  being  compelled 
to  resign  the  office  by  the  arbitrary 
enactment  which  limited  the  period  of 
service  to  the  age  of  sixty.  Never 
could  the  irregular  working  of  this  pro- 
vision be  more  manifest  than  in  his 
case.  It  found  him  in  the  very  vigor 
of  his  powers,  with  twenty-five  years 
yet  before  him,  in  which  he  was  still 
further  to  illustrate  his  legal  ability 
and  wisdom,  though  not  in  the  seat  for 
which  he  was  perhaps  above  all  men 
qualified.  Addresses  were  presented 
to  him  on  his  leaving  office  by  the 
members  of  the  bar  at  New  York,  Al- 
bany, and  of  the  State  at  large  at  Uti- 
ca — all  couched  in  the  warmest  terms 
of  admiration  of  his  judicial  acumen, 
purity,  and  rare  spirit  of  personal  kind- 
ness. This  very  year  of  his  retirement, 
when  a  vacancy  on  the  bench  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
occurred,  Kent  was  spoken  of  for  the 
appointment.  It  had  been  ofifered  by 
President  Monroe  to  Mr.  Smith  Thomp- 
son, then  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy, 
who  for  a  time  held  his  answer  in  sus- 
pense. During  this  interval  Kent  was 
brought  forward,  and  his  merits,  spite 
of  his  difference  in  politics — he  be- 
longed to  the  old  federal  party— were 
urged  by  William  "Wirt,  then  Attorney 
General,  in  a  letter  to  the  President. 
He  claimed  that  the  worth  and  moder- 
ation of  Kent  would  silence  even  the 
uproar  of  party  objection,  "Kent,"  he 
wi'ote,  "  holds  so  lofty  a  stand  every- 
where for  almost  matchless  intellect 
and  learning,  as  well  as  for  spotless 
purity  and  high-minded  honor  and 
patriotism,  that  I  firmly  believe  the 
nation  at  large  would  approve  and  ap- 


JAMES 

plaud  tlie  appoiutmeut.  It  would  sus- 
tain itself  and  soon  put  down  tlie  petty- 
cavils  wliicli  might  at  first  assail  it. 
.  .  .  .  He  may  have  been  decided 
in  Lis  political  cliaracter,  but  I  never 
heard  tliat  lie  was  intolerant,  or  tliat 
there  was  anything  like  bitterness  or 
persecution  in  his  composition.  His 
conversation  and  manners  are  indica- 
tive only  of  a  simplicity  almost  infan- 
tile, and  of  the  most  perfect  kindness 
and  suavity  of  disposition."  The  Pre- 
sident, however,  was  not  called  to  de- 
cide upon  this  warm-hearted  appeal, 
Mr.  Thompson  ha-\dng  entered  upon  the 
office. 

The  termination  of  his  duties  as 
chancellor  led  him  to  take  up  his  resi- 
dence again  in  New  York,  with  a  view 
to  giving  lessons  in  the  law,  and  prac- 
tising his  profession.  Columbia  Col- 
lege again  welcomed  him  to  her  courses 
of  instruction,  offering  him  the  profes- 
sorship of  law,  which  he  accepted.  In 
accordance  with  this  new  obligation  he 
delivered,  in  1824,  a  systematic  course 
of  lectures,  out  of  which  subsequently 
grew  his  Commentaries,  embracing  the 
more  important  topics  of  the  latter,  and 
some  which  are  not  treated  of  in  that 
work.  He  repeated  the  lectures  in 
1825,  and  after  that  discontinued  the 
active  duties  of  his  professorship,  his 
time  being  taken  up  in  chamber  prac- 
tice and  the  preparation  of  his  dis- 
courses for  publication.  These  saw  the 
light  in  a  first  volume  in  1826,  followed 
by  the  second  and  third  in  the  two  fol- 
lowing years,  and  the  fourth  in  1830. 
Successive  editions  appeared  to  the 
close  of  his  life,  each  marked  by  care- 
ful revision. 

n.— 6 


KENT.  45 

The  "  Commentaries  on  American 
Law,"  embrace  the  consideration  of 
the  law  of  nations,  of  the  goverment 
and  constitutional  jurisprudence  of  the 
United  States,  of  the  various  sources 
of  the  municipal  law  of  the  several 
States,  as  well  of  the  civil  as  the  com- 
mon law  ;  the  rights  of  persons,  includ- 
ing the  marriage  relations,  guardianship 
and  corporations;  the  laws  of  personal 
property,  with  its  various  grounds  of 
title,  bailments,  contracts,  partnership, 
marine  insurance,  and  other  topics  ;  the 
law  of  real  property,  in  its  origin  and 
subdivisions,  and  various  limitations — 
a  vast  field,  excluding  only  the  laws  of 
procedure  and  criminal  practice;  so 
skilfully  handled  as  to  become,  to  the 
American  student,  what  the  great  work 
of  Blackstone  is  to  the  jurisprudence 
of  England,  a  clear,  lucid,  perspicuous 
map  and  guide.  The  "  Commentaries  " 
are  eminently,  as  noticed  by  Judge 
Duer,  a  national  work,  "  exhibiting  not 
only  the  jurisj)rudence  of  the  United 
States,  as  derived  by  their  federal  union, 
but  the  municipal  law,  written  and 
unwritten,  of  each  individual  State,  on 
all  the  subjects  that  the  work  em- 
braces. The  principles  and  rules  of  the 
common  law,  applicable  to  each  subject, 
are  first  stated  and  explained,  and  then 
all  the  changes  that  have  been  made  in 
particular  States  by  judicial  decisions, 
or  legislative  enactment." 

Chancellor  Kent  varied  his  retire- 
ment and  his  legal  consultations  by  an 
occasional  appearance  before  the  pub- 
lie,  in  the  delivery  of  occasional  ad- 
dresses. One  of  these,  occupied  with 
a  narrative  of  the  Revolutionary  affairs 
of  his  State,  with  a  special  tribute  to 


46  JAMES 

tlie  somewhat  neglected  merits  of 
Philip  Schuyler,  was  delivered  hy  him 
at  an  anniversary  meeting  of  the  New 
York  Historical  Society,  in  1828,  of 
which  he  had  been  made  President. 
He  also  delivered  an  address  before 
the  Phi  Beta  Kappa  of  Yale  College, 
and  in  1836  an  oration,  with  reminis- 
cences of  his  early  contemporaries,  be- 
fore the  Law  Association  of  New  York. 
In  1840,  he  prepared  a  course  of  Eng- 
lish reading  for  the  use  of  the  members 
of  the  Mercantile  Library  Association, 
which  has  been  since  reprinted,  with 
additions  by  President  Charles  King, 
of  Columbia  College.  The  suggestions, 
the  names  of  authors,  with  occasional 
comments,  are  made  under  the  heads 
of  History,  Biography,  Travels,  Voy- 
ages, Belles-Lettres,  Political  and  Moral 
Science,  and  the  Natural  Sciences.  The 
work  of  Livy,  Kent  pronounces  "  upon 
the  whole,  the  greatest  and  most  com- 
prehensive historical  composition  of  the 
ancients,  replete  with  gravity,  sincerity, 
and  picturesque  description;"  Kollin, 
he  pronounces  prolix  and  tedious,  and 
tells  how  he  was  glad  to  escape  from  it, 
at  college,  "  sixty  years  ago,"  to  Gold- 
smith's "  brief  and  enchanting  epitome 
of  Eoman  history."  He  shows  an  es- 
pecial acquaintance  with  the  modern 
Italian  historians,  dwelling  upon  Macchi- 
avelli,  "the  Tuscan  Tacitus,"  Guicciar- 
dini,  "  the  Florentine  Thucydides,"  and 
Giannoni's  "  Civil  History  of  the  King, 
dom  of  Naples.    He  was  attracted  to 


KENT. 

these  by  their  lessons  of  popular  libei'ty 
and  the  tyi'anny  of  faction.  In  English 
history  and  literature,  he  shows  the 
tastes  of  a  gentleman  and  scholar  of  the 
last  generation,  when  Pope  and  Dryden 
were  still  admired  with  unction.  Trav- 
els in  all  parts  of  the  world  especially 
engaged  his  attention.  He  was  a  dili- 
gent reader  of  them  to  his  last 
days. 

The  close  of  this  life,  so  amiable  and 
full  of  peaceful  trophies,  was  happily 
spent  almost  to  the  last  in  freedom  from 
acute  disease,  and  when  it  finally  suc- 
cumbed, it  was  at  the  venerable  age  of 
eighty-four,  with  moderated,  but  hardly 
diminished  powers  of  enjoyment.  Dur- 
ing the  last  year,  he  became  a  commU' 
nicant  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  to  which  he  had  become  pre- 
viously attached.  His  death  occurred 
December  12,  1847.  At  the  meeting 
of  the  Bar  of  New  York,  held  at  the 
City  Hall,  on  the  occasion,  the  Hon. 
Samuel  Jones  presided,  and  resolutions 
were  offered  and  supported  by  Ogden 
Hoffman,  Benjamin  F.  Butler,  Daniel 
Lord,  and  Hugh  Maxwell.  The  obli- 
gations of  American  law  to  his  early 
devoted  course  were  dwelt  upon,  his 
leading  investigations  and  applications 
of  the  civil  law,  his  companionship  with 
Hamilton,  Pendleton,  Wells,  and  other 
magnates  of  the  profession,  his  sound 
principles  of  policy,  while  the  elegant 
Hoffman,  with  characteristic  fervor, 
euloffized  the  virtues  of  the  man. 


JOHN    JAIMES  AUDUBON. 


JoHisr  Jauies  Audubon,  tlie  American 
naturalist,  was  born  on  tlie  4tli  of  May, 
1780,  on  a  plantation  in  Louisiana, 
■which  his  father,  a  retired  French 
naval  officer,  had  made  his  residence. 
The  family  was  in  prosperous  circum- 
stances, and  the  son  appears  to  have 
had  every  advantage  of  education.  He 
was  early  sent  to  Paris,  whence  he  re- 
turned to  America  at  the  age  of  seven- 
teen, ^vith  a  natural  talent  for  drawing 
which  he  possessed,  instructed  by  the 
hand  of  no  less  eminent  a  master  than 
the  painter  David.  Of  the  tastes  and 
aspu'ations  which  led  him  in  this  direc- 
tion we  may  best  give  the  reader  an 
impression  in  the  words  of  the  pupil 
himself  In  the  "  Introductory  Ad- 
dress," a  species  of  autobiographical 
sketch  or  retrospect,  dated  Edinburgh, 
1831,  placed  as  a  preface  to  the  letter- 
press of  his  great  work  on  ornithology, 
the  reminiscent  writes  mth  characteris- 
tic enthusiasm  :  "  I  received  light  and 
life  in  the  New  World.  When  I  had 
hardly  yet  learned  to  walk,  and  to  articu- 
late those  first  words  always  so  endear- 
ing to  parents,  the  productions  of  nature 
that  lay  spread  all  around  were  con- 
stantly pointed  out  to  me.  They  soon 
became  my  playmates,  and  before  my 
ideas  were  sufficiently  formed  to  enable 
me  to  estimate  the  difference  between 


the  azure  tints  of  the  sky  and  the  eme- 
rald hue  of  the  bright  foliage,  I  felt 
that  an  intimacy  with  them,  not  con- 
sisting of  friendship  merely,  but  bor- 
dering on  frenzy,  must  accompany  my 
steps  through  life;  and  now,  more 
than  ever,  am  I  persuaded  of  the  power 
of  those  early  impressions.  They  laid 
such  hold  upon  me  that,  w^hen  removed 
from  the  woods,  the  prairies  and  the 
brooks,  or  shut  up  from  the  view  of 
the  wide  Atlantic,  I  experienced  none 
of  those  pleasures  most  congenial  to 
my  mind.  None  but  aerial  compan- 
ions suited  my  fancy.  No  roof  seemed 
so  secure  to  me  as  that  formed  of  the 
dense  foliage  under  which  the  feathered 
tribes  were  seen  to  resort,  or  the  caves 
and  fissures  of  the  massy  rocks  to 
which  the  dark-winged  cormorant  and 
the  curlew  retired  to  rest,  or  to  protect 
themselves  fi^om  the  fury  of  the  tem- 
pest. My  father  generally  accompa- 
nied my  steps,  procured  birds  and 
flowers  for  me  with  great  eagerness, 
pointed  out  the  elegant  movements  of 
the  former,  the  beauty  and  softness  of 
their  plumage,  the  manifestations  of 
their  pleasure  or  sense  of  danger,  and 
the  always  perfect  forms  and  splendid 
attire  of  the  latter.  My  valued  pre- 
ceptor would  then  speak  of  the  depart- 
ure and  return  of  birds  with  the  sea 

47 


4S 


JOHN  JAMES  AUDUBON. 


sons,  and  would  describe  their  haunts, 
and,  more  wonderful  than  all,  their 
change  of  livery ;  thus  exciting  me  to 
study  them,  and  to  raise  my  mind 
toward  their  great  Creator." 

There  were  many  steps,  however, 
between  these  first  half  shaped  inti- 
mations of  genius  and  the  perfected 
scientific  naturalist.  Enthusiasm  will 
do  much,  but  only  in  the  way  of  di- 
recting sober  plodding  labors.  The 
great  distinction  of  the  man  of  genius 
is,  not  that  he  is  able  to  dispense  with 
toil,  but  that  he  has  a  fresh,  ever- 
springing  motive  within  him  which 
does  not  permit  him  to  tire  at  his 
work.  The  labor  must  still  be  under- 
taken and  accomplished.  Indeed,  the 
man  of  genius,  while  he  is  continually 
shortening  the  processes  is  constantly 
inventing  for  himself  new  trials  and 
difiSculties. 

The  boy  was  delighted  with  his 
early  observations  of  nature,  watching 
the  birth  and  growth  of  birds  from 
the  egg,  looking  upon  them,  he  says, 
"  as  flowers  in  the  bud."  Then  came 
the  desire  of  acquisition,  of  possession, 
of  forming  a  collection,  similar  to  the 
want  of  a  scholar  of  his  own  books  and 
library — though  perhaps  a  more  impel- 
lino;  motive,  with  the  naturalist  who 
has  a  living  sympathy  with  his  brute 
friends  who  are  dependent  on  his  care. 
The  bird,  too,  like  the  book,  was  capa- 
ble of  rewarding  attention  by  the  de- 
velopment of  new  traits.  Yet  in  one 
respect  the  book  has  an  advantage.  It 
can  be  studied  during  the  lifetime  of 
the  observer.  It  does  not  die  and 
moulder  fi-om  our  view.  Something  of 
this,  as  he  tells  us,  was  felt  by  the 


young  Audubon.  Even  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  birds,  after  death,  was  oner- 
ous, and  required  constant  care,  and 
was  subject  to  decay  as  the  beauty  of 
the  plumage  vanished.  "  I  wished," 
was  the  longing  of  the  boy  naturalist, 
"  all  the  productions  of  nature,  but  I 
wished  life  with  them."  The  sequel  is 
told  in  rather  a  di'amatic  way^"  I 
turned  to  my  father  and  made  known 
to  him  my  disappointment  and  anxiety. 
He  produced  a  book  of  illustrations. 
A  new  life  ran  in  my  veins.  I  turned 
over  the  leaves  with  avidity ;  and  al- 
though what  I  saw  was  not  what  I 
longed  for,  it  gave  me  a  desire  to  copy 
nature."  To  copy  nature — it  is  in 
three  words  the  story  of  his  future 
life. 

That  perception  of  nature  in  its  liv- 
ing forms  was  so  keen  that  it  made  the 
youth  the  severest  critic  of  his  own 
labors,  impelling  him  to  work  and 
compelling  him  to  destroy.  His  pen- 
cil, he  says,  "  gave  birth  to  a  family  of 
cripples.  So  maimed  were  most  of 
them  that  they  resembled  the  mangled 
corpses  on  a  field  of  battle,  compared 
with  the  integrity  of  living  men." 
One  expression  strikes  us  as  of  singu- 
lar force  and  felicity.  "  The  worse  my 
drawings  were,  the  more  beautiful  did 
I  see  the  originals."  So  he  plodded 
on,  frequently  dissatisfied,  but  never 
discontinuing  his  work.  It  was  a  sure 
sign  of  his  mental  growth  that  for  a 
long  time  every  successive  birthday 
witnessed  a  grand  incremation  of  these 
immature  sketches.  Such  was  his 
youthful  experience  when  he  returned 
from  France,  instructed,  as  we  have 
seen,  by  David,  leaving  the  fine  arts 


JOHN  JAMES  AUDUBON. 


49 


of  the  Old  World,  its  wealtli  of  galler- 
ies and  tliousand  charms  of  history,  to 
devote  himself  to  simple  nature  in  the 
New. 

His  father  gave  him  the  opportunity 
of  gratifying  his  tastes  for  rural  life 
and  study,  by  presenting  him  a  farm 
in  Pennsylvania,  richly  furnished  with 
woods  and  evergreens,  and  watered  by 
a  running  stream,  where  the  free  fea- 
thered inhabitants  were  at  his  door. 
But  a  long  time  was  yet  to  elapse 
before  he  was  fully  conscious  to  him- 
self of  his  claim  upon  the  world  as  a 
naturalist,  who  had  a  story  to  tell  the 
public  worth  listening  to,  and  some- 
thing to  show  worth  seeing.  These 
upward  and  outward  struggles  of  na- 
ture are  the  great  lessons  of  biography. 
All  can  understand  the  finished  work ; 
but  men  are  every  day  making  mis- 
takes in  their  judgment  of  the  traits 
of  character,  and  processes  which  lead 
to  excellence.  "  For  a  period  of  twenty 
years,"  writes  Audubon,  "  my  life  was 
a  succession  of  vicissitudes.  I  tried 
various  branches  of  commerce,  but 
they  all  proved  unprofitable,  doubtless 
because  my  whole  mind  was  ever  filled 
with  my  passion  for  rambling  and  ad- 
miring those  objects  of  nature  from 
which  alone  I  received  the  purest  grati- 
fication. I  had  to  struggle  against  the 
will  of  all  who  at  that  period  called 
themselves  my  friends.  I  must  here, 
however,  except  my  wife  and  children. 
The  remarks  of  my  other  friends  irri- 
tated me  beyond  endurance,  and  break- 
ing through  all  bonds,  I  gave  myself 
entirely  up  to  my  pursuits.  Any  one 
unacquainted  with  the  extraordinary 
desii^e  which  I  then  felt  of  seeing  and 


judging  for  myself,  would  doubtless 
have  pronounced  me  callous  to  every 
sense  of  duty,  and  regardless  of  every 
interest.  I  undertook  long  and  tedious 
journeys,  ransacked  the  woods,  the 
lakes,  the  prairies,  and  the  shores  of 
the  Atlantic.  Years  were  spent  away 
from  my  family.  Yet,  reader,  will  you 
believe  it,  I  had  no  other  object  in 
view  than  simply  to  enjoy  the  sight  of 
nature." 

In  one  of  those  delightful  sketches 
of  natural  scenery  with  which  the  de- 
scriptive volumes  of  his  great  work  is 
interspersed,  Audubon  pauses  to  ask 
of  Irving  and  Cooper  to  describe  the 
virgin  country  of  the  Ohio  and  Miss- 
issippi, which  in  twenty  years  he  had 
seen  transformed  from  an  unbroken 
Vv^ilderness  into  the  thickly  peopled 
abode  of  civilization.  It  was  the  feli- 
city of  Audubon  that  his  attention  was 
turned  to  the  observation  of  nature 
while  her  early  features  yet  remained 
unchanged,  that  he  was  the  immediate 
successor  of  Wilson,  a  kindred  spirit, 
and  a  contemporary  of  Daniel  Boone. 
His  description  of  the  scenery  of  the 
Ohio,  in  the  account  of  the  journey 
with  his  wife  and  infant  son,  from  his 
Pennsylvania  home  to  a  new  residence 
at  Henderson,  Kentucky,  about  the 
year  1810,  shows  the  naturalist  to  have 
had  an  appreciative  eye  for  the  beau- 
ties of  the  landscape  in  his  quest  of  its 
wild  animal  occupants. 

We  thus  find  the  young  naturalist, 
who  as  yet  made  no  pretensions  to  the 
name,  happily  married,  leaving  his  At- 
lantic home  for  a  new  residence  in  the 
West.  He  was  for  a  time  established 
as  a  trader  at  Henderson,  on  the  Ohio, 


50 


JAMES  AUDUBON. 


in  the  western  portion  of  Kentucky, 
and  at  Louisville,  all  tlie  wliile  occu- 
pying himself  with  his  gun  in  his 
fa\'oi-ite  rambles  and  studies  of  orni- 
thology. An  incident  of  his  mercantile 
life  at  the  latter  place  deserves  men- 
tion in  his  biography.  He  was  one 
day  waited  upon  in  his  counting-room 
by  Alexander  "Wilson,  the  devoted 
naturalist,  the  pioneer  of  American 
forests,  and  solicited  for  a  subscription 
to  the  "  American  Ornithology."  Nei- 
ther at  the  moment  appears  to  have 
had  any  previous  knowledge  of  the 
pursuits  of  the  other.  Audubon  exam- 
ined the  eno-ravinsrs  of  Wilson  with 
interest,  and  the  latter  was  still  more 
surprised  to  witness  the  di^awings  of 
birds  in  the  portfolio  of  a  western 
storekeeper.  "Wilson  asked  if  it  was 
his  intention  to  publish,  and  appeared 
still  more  perplexed  when  he  learnt 
that  so  patient  a  student  had  no  such 
object.  He  borrowed  the  drawings  to 
examine  during  his  stay  in  the  town, 
and  was  introduced  to  birds  new  to 
him  in  the  neighborhood,  in  hunting 
with  his  chance  acquaintance.  Audu- 
bon, who  as  yet  had  not  "  taken  unto 
the  height  the  measure  of  himself," 
placed  all  his  drawings  at  the  disposal 
of  his  visitor,  with  the  result  of  his  re- 
searches, proposing  a  correspondence, 
and  stipulating  only  in  return  for  an 
acknowledgment,  in  the  published 
work,  of  what  came  from  his  pencil. 
It  was  perhaps  well  for  both  that  the 
liberal  offer  was  not  accepted  ;  for  each 
was  strong  enough  to  stand  by  himself, 
and  the  world  can  look  upon  the  inde- 
pendent labors  of  both  with  an  admira- 
tion which  it  has  been  taught  by  both 


to  cultivate.  They  were  alike  pupils 
in  the  great  school  of  nature,  taking 
their  lessons  in  the  wilderness,  encoun- 
tering, Wilson  particularly,  more  ene- 
mies in  the  indifference  of  the  world 
than  the  "  winter  and  rough  weather " 
to  which  they  voluntarily  subjected 
themselves. 

It  was  not  till  1824,  on  a  visit  to 
Philadelphia,  when  he  was  introduced 
by  Dr.  Mease  to  Prince  Charles  Lucien 
Bonaparte,  who,  an  accomplished  na- 
turalist himself,  saw  the  value  of  Au- 
dubon's labors,  and  animated  him  by 
his  encouragement,  that  he  set  seriously 
about  the  work  of  thorough  prepara- 
tion for  publication.  He  was  presented 
by  the  Prince  to  the  Natural  History 
Society  of  Philadelphia,  and,  proceed- 
ing to  New  York,  was  received  with 
kindness  by  the  inhabitants  as  he  made 
his  way  "by  that  noble  stream,  the 
Hudson,  to  glide  over  our  broad  lakes 
and  seek  the  wildest  solitudes  of  the 
pathless  and  gloomy  forests."  It  was 
at  this  time,  he  tells  us,  and  in  these 
scenes,  that  he  first  entertained  the 
thought  of  visiting  Europe  to  obtain 
the  means  and  carry  out  the  plan  of 
multiplying  his  drawings  by  engraving. 
Eighteen  months  were  passed  in  addi- 
tional preparation,  his  family  mean- 
while leaving  their  home  in  Louisiana 
before  he  was  ready  to  break  ground 
in  the  Old  World. 

In  1826,  at  the  age  of  forty-six,  una- 
ble to  obtain  the  facilities  for  publish- 
ing his  work  in  the  United  States,  he 
set  sail  for  England,  bearing  with  him 
the  drawings  from  original  studies, 
upon  which  he  had  expended  so  much 
care.    Twice  in  this  season  of  pupilage 


JOHN  JAMES  AUDUBON. 


51 


he  liad  been  nlmost  driven  to  despair. 
It  Nvas  while  he  was  a  resident  of  Ohio 
that,  returning  from  a  visit  to  Phila- 
delphia, he  found  two  hundred  of  his 
original  drawings,  representing  nearly 
a  thousand  birds,  which  he  liad  left 
carefully  stored  in  a  box,  liad  been  de- 
stroyed in  Ms  absence  by  a  family  of 
Norway  rats,  wliich  had  taken  possess- 
ion of  the  case.  "  The  burning  heat," 
he  writes,  "  wliicli  instantly  rushed 
through  my  brain,  was  too  great  to  be 
endured  without  affectino-  the  wliole 
of  my  nervous  system.  I  slept  not  for 
several  niglits,  and  the  days  passed 
like  days  of  oblivion,  until  the  animal 
powers  being  recalled  into  action, 
tlirough  the  strength  of  my  constitu- 
tion, I  took  up  my  gun,  my  note-book, 
and  my  pencil,  and  went  forth  to  the 
woods  as  gaily  as  if  nothing  kad  hap- 
pened. I  felt  pleased  tkat  I  might 
now  make  muck  better  drawings  than 
before  :  and,  ere  a  period  not  exceeding 
three  years  kad  elapsed,  I  had  my 
portfolio  filled  again."  The  second 
trial  was  when  Lawson,  tke  engraver 
of  tke  works  of  Lucien  Bonaparte,  at 
Philadelphia,  pronounced  it  impossible 
to  engrave  from  kis  drawings.  It  is  by 
suck  trials  tkat  men  of  genius  are  dis- 
ciplined— trials  w^kick  it  requires  ge- 
nius to  undergo. 

It  was  not  unnatural  tkat  tke  travel- 
ler skould  experience  some  despondency 
as  ke  approacked  tke  skores  of  Eng- 
land. He  was  well  armed  witk  letters 
of  introduction,  but  Europe  kad  tkus 
far  received  too  little  in  kis  department 
of  science  from  America  to  be  greatly 
agitated  at  kis  arrival.  His  doubts 
were  multiplied  as  ke  read  tke  unsym- 


patkizing  faces  in  tke  crowded  streets 
of  Liverpool.  But  kow  could  tkey  be 
interested  in  an  unknown  stranger  ? 
At  kome  tke  kunter  naturalist  could 
kide  kis  sorrows  in  tke  forest,  as  tke 
sckolar  takes  refuge  in  kis  library  ;  but 
wkat  cOuld  ke  do  in  tkis  busy  tkorougk- 
fare?  "To  tke  woods,"  ke  says  witk 
feeling  simplicity,  "  I  could  not  betake 
myself,  for  tkere  were  none  near."  But 
in  a  moment  tke  scene  was  ckanged  to 
success  and  felicity.  Tke  merckant 
princes  and  men  of  science  of  Liverpool 
took  tkeir  visitor  by  tke  kand;  kis 
drawings  were  exkibited  and  ke  was 
on  tke  kigk  road  to  fame.  An  equally 
friendly  reception  awaited  kim  at  Man- 
ckester,  and  at  Edinburgk  ke  was  re- 
ceived witk  kearty  welcome  by  tke 
magnates  of  tke  University,  Jameson, 
Wilson,  Brown,  Monroe  and  otkers,  and 
by  suck  celebrities  as  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
Captain  Hall,  and  tke  rest  wko  made 
up  tke  brilliant  society  of  tke  culti- 
vated upper  classes  of  tke  northern 
metropolis.  Nor  was  it  an  idle  tribute 
of  men  of  taste  and  faskion  in  litera- 
ture. Tke  compliments  wkick  ke  re- 
ceived were  accompanied  by  substan- 
tial rewards  in  subscriptions  to  kis 
undertakino; ;  tkouo;k  tke  manufactur- 
ing  wealtk  of  Leeds  and  Manckester 
was  able  to  render  more  of  tkis  mate- 
rial assistance  tkan  learned  Edinburgk. 
Of  tke  one  kundred  and  eigkty  names 
appended  to  tke  first  volume  of  orni- 
tkological  biograpky,  accompanying 
tke  first  instalment  of  one  kundred 
plates,  tke  number  of  subscribers  fur- 
nisked  by  tkese  manufacturing  towns  is 
most  creditable  to  tke  taste  and  liber- 
ality of  tke  inkabitants.    But  it  is,  per- 


52 


JOHN  JAMBS  AFDTJBON. 


liaps,  still  more  to  tlie  credit  of  Ameri- 
ca,  wliose  wealth  was  less  abundant, 
that  nearly  one-half  the  whole  sub- 
scription was  furnished  him  at  home. 
The  unprecedented  success  of  the 
popular  American  subscription  to  the 
work  of  Agassiz  on  natural  history  of 
the  present  time,  shows  that  the  liberal- 
ity of  the  country  keeps  pace  with  its 
riches. 

Audubon  commenced  the  publica- 
tion of  his  work,  "  The  Birds  of  Ame- 
rica, from  Drawings  made  in  the  Unit- 
ed States  and  their  Territories,"  in 
Edinburgh,  whence  it  was  transferred 
to  the  hands  of  the  engraver,  Robert 
Havell,  of  London,  by  whom  it  was 
thenceforth  executed.  The  drawings 
were  in  the  engraver's  hands  before  a 
single  subscriber  was  obtained ;  but 
when  the  publication  was  commenced, 
in  182Y,  twenty-five  plates  were  issued 
regularly  every  year,  and  the  close  of 
1830  saw  the  first  volume  completed. 
The  work  was  issued  in  numbers,  at 
the  subscription  price  of  two  guineas 
each,  a  number  containing  five  plates. 
The  entire  series  of  four  hundred  and 
thirty-five  plates  was  issued  to  subscri- 
bers for  one  thousand  dollars. 

After  laying  the  foundation  of  his 
great  enterprise  in  England,  Mr.  Audu- 
bon visited  Paris,  where  he  was  com- 
plimented by  the  interest  taken  in  his 
work  by  the  distinguished  Cuvier  and 
the  savans  of  the  metropolis.  The  ex- 
traordinary dimensions  of  his  pictures, 
then  a  novelty,  enabling  him  to  repre- 
sent every  bird  of  the  size  of  life,  the 
fidelity  and  lifelike  air  of  his  drawing 
and  coloring,  the  interest  of  these  new 
additions  to  science,  were  well  adapted 


to  secure  admiration.  If  the  undertak- 
ing, said  Cuvier,  were  carried  out, 
America  would  surpass  the  Old  World 
in  magnificence  of  execution.  Encour 
aged  by  these  glowing  tributes,  which 
were  fairly  extorted  by  his  brilliant 
labors,  Audubon  having  fairly  intro- 
duced his  work  to  the  public,  and  seen 
the  successive  numbers  improving  un- 
der the  hands  of  his  engraver,  returned 
in  1829  for  a  hurried  visit  to  the  Unit- 
ed States,  "scouring  the  woods"  as 
usual,  for  new  objects  for  his  pencil. 
In  the  spring  of  the  next  year  he  was 
in  London  with  his  family,  and  in  1831 
was  once  more  in  America,  intent  upon 
a  comprehensive  tour  of  observation  and 
discovery.  He  procured  letters  from  the 
Department  at  Washington  to  the  mil- 
itary outposts,  explored  the  Carolinas 
and  Florida,  and  following  the  birds  in 
their  migrations,  proceeded  northward 
to  Maine  and  Labrador,  everywhere  en- 
riching his  portfolio  with  the  results  of 
his  explorations.  The  sketches  of  his 
travellino;  in  Florida  and  Labrador, 
like  the  notices  of  his  western  tours, 
abound  in  pleasing  passages  of  descrip- 
tion. The  contrast  of  these  several 
scenes  adds  not  a  little  to  their  charms  ; 
while,  interspersed  with  the  exact  de- 
scription of  birds,  they  infuse  a  personal 
human  interest  among  the  necessarily 
formal  details  of  ornithological  science. 

Audubon  thus  passed  nearly  thre6 
years  "  of  travel  and  research  "  in  Ame- 
rica before  he  returned  to  England, 
where  he  was  greeted  by  his  completed 
second  volume,  one-half  of  his  project- 
ed work.  A  third  appeared  in  due 
time,  and  the  fourth  and  last  was  fin- 
ished in  1838. 


JOHN   JAMES  AUDUBON. 


53 


After  tliis  the  aiitlior  was  at  liberty 
to  make  liis  permanent  home  in  Ameri- 
ca, and  consequently  in  1839  returned 
to  the  United  States,  and  became  the 
purchaser  of  a  country  seat  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  New  York,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Hudson,  on  the  upper 
portion  of  the  island  on  which  the  city 
is  situated.  To  bring  the  results  of  his 
great  work  within  the  reach  of  a  larger 
number  of  the  public,  he  employed 
himself  upon  its  reduction.  This  was 
published  in  New  York  in  seven  octavo 
volumes,  between  1840  and  1844.  Nor 
had  the  author  meantime  relinquished 
his  active  habits  of  exploration.  In 
company  with  his  sons  Victor  Gifford 
and  John  Woodhouse  he  traversed  the 
remoter  regions  of  the  country,  collect- 
ing materials  for  a  new  work  on  which 
he  now  became  engaged,  on  the  Vivi- 
parous Quadrupeds  of  North  America. 
Besides  the  aid  of  his  sons,  he  had  the 
assistance  in  this  work  of  his  friend, 
the  accomplished  naturalist,  the  Kev. 
John  Bachman  of  South  Carolina.  It 
was  in  size  similar  to  the  original  "  Or- 
nithology," and  was  completed  in  three 
volumes  in  1848.  This  was  the  last 
publishing  enterprise  which  the  author 
lived  to  see  completed,  a  smaller  edi- 
tion of  the  work  having  appeared  since 
his  death. 

There  was  something  very  pleasing 
in  the  fine  manly  appearance  of  the 
venerable  disciple  of  nature  in  his  last 
years — for  age  treated  him  kindly,  and 
he  carried  with  him  nearly  to  the  last, 
a  fi-esh,  buoyant  energy  of  his  own. 
His  time,  when  not  passed,  in  his  favor- 
ite woods,  was  spent  in  the  familiar 
labors  of  the  pencil,  and  in  the  enjoy- 


ment, surrounded  by  his  family  and 
friends,  of  his  suburban  rural  retreat. 
He  had  the  rare  satisfaction,  also,  of 
seeing  his  fame  established  throughout 
the  world,  and  of  witnessing,  as  his 
active  powers  failed,  the  continuance 
of  his  labors  in  the  hands  of  his  sons, 
devoted  to  his  science  and  art.  His 
last  perception  of  fading  consciousness 
was  a  few  days  before  liis  death,  when 
one  of  his  sons  held  before  him  some 
of  his  most  cherished  drawings.  He 
died  on  the  2lt\i  January,  1851. 

For  a  personal  description  of  the 
man  in  his  prime,  we  may  cite  the  elo- 
quent tribute  of  one  who  had  much  in 
common  with  Audubon  in  the  genial, 
unfettered  love  of  nature,  and  in  cer- 
tain poetic  impulses  which  jDervade 
alike  the  prose  writings  of  each.  In 
enthusiasm  for  the  woods  and  fields. 
Professor  "Wilson,  or  Christoj^her  North, 
as  he  delighted  to  call  himself  in  this 
holiday  capacity,  was  the  equal  of  Au- 
dubon. There  was  much,  too,  alike  in 
their  personal  appearance — the  flowing 
mane  of  hair,  the  careless  hunter's 
dress,  the  eagle  eye.  Wilson,  in  the 
passage  alluded  to,  is  reviewing  the 
"  Ornithological  Biography,"  on  the 
publication  of  the  first  volume  in  1831. 
He  thus  introduces  the  author  : 

"  When,  some  five  years  ago,  we  first 
set  eyes  on  him,  in  a  party  of  literati, 
in  'stately  Eclinborough  throned  on 
crags,'  he  was  such  an  American  woods- 
man as  took  the  shine  out  of  us  mod- 
ern Athenians.  Though  dressed,  of 
course,  somewhat  after  the  fashion  of 
ourselves,  his  long  raven  locks  hung 
curling  over  his  shoulders,  yet  unshorn 
from  the  wilderness.    They  were  shad- 


54: 


JOHN  JAMES  AUDUBON. 


ed  across  his  open  foreliead  with  a  sim- 
ple elegance,  such  as  a  civilized  Christ- 
ian might  be  supposed  to  give  his  '  fell 
of  hair,'  when  practising  '  every  man 
his  own  perruquier '  in  some  liquid 
mirror  in  the  forest  glade,  employing, 
perhaps,  for  a  comb,  the  claw  of  the 
bald  eagle.  His  sallow,  fine-featured 
face  bespoke  a  sort  of  wild  independ- 
ence ;  and  then  such  an  eye,  keen  as 
that  of  the  falcon !  His  foreign  accent 
and  broken  English  speech — for  he  is 
of  French  descent — removed  him  still 
further  out  of  the  commonplace  circle 
of  this  everyday  world  of  ours ;  and 
his  whole  demeanor — it  might  be  with 
us  partly  imagination — was  colored  to 
our  thought  by  a  character  of  conscious 
freedom  and  dignity,  which  he  had 
habitually  acquired  in  his  long  and 
lonely  wanderings  among  the  woods, 
where  he  had  lived  in  the  uncompanied 
love  and  delight  of  nature,  and  in  the 
studious  observation  of  all  the  ways  of 
her  winged  children,  that  forever  flut- 
tered over  his  paths,  and  roosted  on 
the  tree  at  whose  feet  he  lay  at  night, 
beholding  them  still  the  sole  images 
that  haunted  his  dreams."  ^ 

It  is  understood  that  Audubon  left 
behind  him  a  work  of  autobiography. 
The  passages  which  he  has  given  from 
his  journals  in  his  Ornithological  Bio- 
graphy would  lead  us  to  expect  a  book 
of  rare  interest.  These  relate,  of  course, 
mainly  to  incidents  of  his  travels  un- 
dertaken in  pursuit  of  his  favorite 
science.    They  have  the  charm  of  the 


'  Blackwood's  Magazine,  vol.  xxx.  p.  11. 


French  temperament,  that  happy  talent 
of  observation  and  description  which 
harmonizes  so  admirably  the  simple 
and  rude  elements  of  frontier  rural  life ; 
that  art  of  pleasure — that  determina- 
tion of  pleasing  and  being  pleased,  so 
characteristic  of  the  race.  The  move- 
ments of  Audubon  among  this  humble 
society  seem  to  have  caught  something 
of  the  easy  gracefulness  of  his  own 
feathered  songsters.  He  appears  never 
insensible  to  common  blessings,  never 
long  depressed  at  the  difficulties  of  his* 
situation.  There  is  a  felicity  in  many  of 
these  little  narratives  which  added  new 
interest  in  the  productions  of  his  pen 
to  the  faithful  delineations  of  his  pencil. 

As  an  index  of  the  wealth  of 
beauty  in  his  pictorial  works,  we 
might  contrast  his  accounts  of  the 
Bird  of  Washington,  a  species  of  the 
eagle  tribe  which  he  prided  himself 
upon  being  the  first  to  depict,  and 
the  Louisiana  mocking-bird,  which  he 
has  so  charmingly  described.  But  who 
has  not  seen  the  engravings  of  the 
Birds  of  America— a  work  indeed  too 
expensive  for  popular  circulation  in  its 
original  form,  the  somewhat  exclusive 
possession  of  the  wealthy,  and  chosen 
as  a  rare  and  costly  gift  by  Govern- 
ment to  foreign  states  ;  but  familiar  to 
the  eye  in  our  public  libraries  and  gal- 
leries ?  A  glance  at  the  ample  pages 
will  show  the  patient  study  of  a  lifii- 
time,  the  result  of  years  of  watching 
and  investigation  of  the  habits  of 
birds,  their  peculiar  traits,  their  exqui- 
site plumage,  their  arch  attitudes,  and 
even  their  favorite  surroundings. 


DE  WITT 


CLINTON. 


a  previous  page,  in  tlie  notice  of 
G-overnor  George  Clinton,  the  "  soldier 
and  statesman  of  tlie  Revolution,"  we 
have  traced  the  history  of  the  Clinton 
family  through  their  remarkable  Ame- 
rican progenitor,  Charles  Clinton,  of 
'New  York  colonial  memory,  to  their 
remote  European  ancestry.  We  are 
now  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  another 
branch  of  the  family,  which  perpetuat- 
ed^ its  honors  with  increasing  fame  to  a 
third  generation  on  this  soil.  A  race 
which  has  given  two  distinguished 
governors  to  New  York,  each  of  whom 
stood  in  a  certain  direct  relation  to  the 
Presidency,  must  excite  a  biographic 
interest. 

General  James  Clinton,  the  brother 
of  Governor  George  Clinton,  and  father 
of  De  Witt  Clinton,  was  born  at  the 
homestead  in  Little  Britain,  in  a  part 
of  Ulster  County  now  included  in  Or- 
ange, in  1736.  He  early  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  military  affairs,  and  was 
in  actual  service  with  his  father  and 
brother  in  the  old  French  war  at  Fron- 
tenac.  When  the  peace  of  Versailles  con- 
cluded hostilities,  he  still  kept  an  eye  on 
the  profession  of  arms,  and  rose  by  his 
merits  in  the  colonial  service  to  impor- 
tant frontier  commands.  He  married, 
at  this  time,  Mary  De  Witt,  a  young 
lady  of  excellent  Dutch  descent.  The 


Clinton  family,  always  imbued  with 
liberal  principles,  was  naturally  looked 
to  by  the  Whigs  of  the  Revolution. 
James,  with  his  brother,  joined  the  in- 
fant cause,  was  appointed  to  high  com- 
mands in  the  provincial  service,  and 
speedily  engrafted,  a  brigadier  general, 
on  the  army  of  the  United  States.  He 
was  with  Montgomery  in  his  invasion 
of  Canada,  at  Montreal,  and  gallantly 
defended  Fort  Clinton,  by  the  side  of 
his  brother  at  Fort  Montgomery,  when 
both,  after  a  valiant  resistance  were 
compelled  to  yield  to  the  superior 
forces  of  Sir  Henry  Clinton.  James 
Clinton  was  the  last  man  to  leave  the 
works.  His  esca23e  was  one  of  the 
wonders  of  that  hard-fought  day.  He 
was  severely  wounded  by  a  bayonet 
thrust,  as  he  fled,  pursued  by  the  bul- 
lets of  the  enemy.  His  servant  was 
killed  by  his  side.  Taking  his  bridle 
from  his  horse,  he  slid  down  the  rocky 
precipice  of  the  fort  a  hundred  feet,  to 
the  ravine,  crept  along  the  bank,  his 
flowing  blood  staunched  by  a  fall  into 
the  river,  till  morning,  when  he  met 
with  a  horse  on  which  he  rode  sixteen 
miles  to  his  home.  He  was  engaged 
in  other  military  services  in  the  State 
and  was  at  the  final  surrender  at  York- 
town.  After  participating  in  the  hon- 
ors of  Washington's  entry  into  New 

65 


56  DE  WITT 

York,  lie  retired  to  his  country-seat  in 
Orange  County,  where,  dying  at  the 
age  of  seventy-six,  his  remains  were 
laid  in  a  tomb  inscribed  by  his  son — 
"  He  was  a  good  man  and  a  sincere 
patriot,  performing,  in  the  most  exem- 
plary manner,  all  the  duties  of  life : 
and  he  died,  as  he  lived,  without  fear 
and  without  reproach." 

His  son,  De  Witt  Clinton,  was  born 
at  the  family  residence,  at  Little  Bri- 
tain, March  2,  1769.  His  early  educa- 
tion was  under  the  care  of  the  Presby- 
terian pastor  of  the  settlement,  and  at 
the  Academy  of  Mr.  Addison,  at 
Kingston.  At  the  close  of  the  war  he 
was  a  youth  of  fifteen,  on  his  way  to 
Princeton,  when  he  was  arrested  at 
New  York  by  the  efforts  to  revive  the 
seat  of  learning.  King's  College,  in  that 
city,  whose  short  existence  in  the  colo- 
nial era  had  been  attended  with  dis- 
tinguished success.  His  uncle,  George 
Clinton,  the  governor  of  the  State, 
took  an  active  part  in  this  reorganiza- 
tion, which  was  effected  in  1784.  De 
"Witt  Clinton  was  the  first  matriculated 
student  of  the  revived  institution, 
which  now  bore  the  name  of  Columbia 
College.  He  entered  the  junior  class, 
and  in  April,  1786,  received  his  degree 
at  the  first  Commencement  after  the 
Revolution.  Forty-one  years  after, 
shortly  before  his  death,  in  an  address 
before  the  alumni,  Clinton  paid  a  grate- 
ful tribute  to  the  founders  of  the  ris- 
ing college ;  to  Cochran,  the  clas^cal 
scholar,  to  Kemp,  the  professor  of  ma- 
thematics and  natural  philosophy,  to 
Benjamin  Moore,  subsequently  the 
bishop,  whose  benignity  added  a  grace 
to  his  department  of  rhetoric.  Coch- 


CLINTON. 

ran  lived  to  delight  in  his  pupil,  and 
to  lay  his  wealth  of  praise,  in  well 
chosen  learned  phraseology,  upon  his 
grave.  "  He  did  everything  well ; 
upon  the  whole,  Se  seemed  likely  to 
me  to  prove,  as  he  did  prove,  a  high- 
ly useful  and  practical  man  ;  what  the 
Romans  call  civilis  and  the  Greeks 
poUt{ko8^  a  useful  citizen,  qualified  to 
counsel  and  direct  his  fellow  citizens  to 
honor  and  happiness."  To  the  ingenu- 
ity and  insight  of  Kemp,  particularly 
in  his  inculcation  of  the  value  of  canal 
navigation,  in  internal  improvements,  a 
marked  influence  has  been  attributed 
upon  the  career  of  his  pupil.  There  is 
one  habit  of  his  college  years  which 
accompanied  him  through  life,  one  with 
which  few  men  who  make  their  mark 
in  the  world  at  the  present  day  are 
able  to  dispense — the  practice  of  study- 
ing with  the  pen  in  hand.  He  thus 
acquired  an  exact  mental  disci j)line, 
and  laid  the  foundation  of  that  accu- 
mulated stock  of  literature  and  science 
which  was  the  solace  and  support  of 
his  after  career. 

On  the  completion  of  these  prepara- 
toiy  lessons — for  they  were  but  prepa- 
ratory— Clinton  was  always  a  student 
and  learner — he  engaged  in  the  study 
of  the  law  in  the  ofiice  of  Samuel 
Jones,  an  eminent  counsellor  of  the 
time,  the  father  of  the  late  Chancellor 
Jones.  It  was  the  season  of  the  adop- 
tion of  the  Federal  Constitution,  and 
the  young  student  was  an  anxious 
watcher  of  the  debates  at  the  session 
of  the  Ratifying  Convention  at  Pough- 
keepsie.  His  uncle,  the  governor,  it 
will  be  remembered,  sat  at  the  head  of 
that  body,  and  was  one  of  the  most 


DE  WITT 

resolute  opponents  of  the  measure. 
The  nephew  was  thus  early  in  corres- 
pondence with  politicians  in  New  York, 
to  whom  he  communicated  the  progress 
of  the  debate.  He  shared  the  views 
of  his  uncle,  his  jealousy  of  consolida- 
tion, and  fears  of  the  loss  of  State  pri- 
vileges, and  had  already  signalized  his 
com-se  as  an  Anti-Federalist  by  his 
series  of  letters  signed  "  A  Country- 
man." in  reply  to  the  papers  of  Jay, 
Hamilton,  and  Madison.  The  oppo- 
nents of  the  Constitution  were,  how- 
ever, compelled  to  yield  their  preju- 
dices to  the  necessities  of  the  case,  un- 
der cover  of  urgent  pleas  for  proposed 
amendments. 

De  Witt  Clinton  was  now  taken 
into  the  employ  of  the  governor 
as  his  secretary,  and  thus  made  his 
entrance  upon  public  affairs  in  1Y89. 
In  1794  he  was  made  secretary  of  the 
Board  of  Regents  of  the  University, 
and  in  this  capacity  drew  the  Report 
in  favor  of  the  incorporation  of  Union 
College,  containing  the  earliest  official 
recommendation  of  the  establishment 
of  schools  by  the  Legislature,  for  the 
common  branches  of  education.^  He 
was  also  secretary  of  the  Board  of 
Commissioners  of  the  State  fortifica- 
tions. In  these  appointments  he  had 
the  example  and  assistance  of  his 
uncle,  always  a  zealous  and  enlightened 
promoter  of  the  welfare  of  New  York. 
This  influence  ceased  when  the  gover- 
nor retired  from  office,  in  1795, 
when  the  young  Clinton  commenced 
the  practice  of  the  law  in  New  York. 
He  was  brought  in  contact  with  Dr. 


'  Street's  Council  of  Revision,  etc.,  p.  138. 


CLINTON.  57 

Hosack  and  Dr.  Mitchill,  then  profes- 
sors of  botany  and  chemistry  in  Colum- 
bia College,  with  whom  he  prosecuted 
those  studies  of  natural  history  which 
grew  to  be  great  favorites  with  him, 
and  in  which  he  became  an  accom- 
plished adept.  He  married  at  this 
time  Miss  Franklin,  the  daughter  of  an 
eminent  Quaker  merchant  of  New 
York.  In  1797  he  was  elected  to  the 
Legislature  as  a  member  of  the  Assem- 
bly, and  in  the  following  year  to  its 
upper  house,  the  Senate,  when  he  was 
chosen  a  member  of  the  Council  of  Ap- 
pointment. While  in  discharge  of  this 
duty,  a  question  arose  within  this  body 
as  to  the  right  of  nomination.  It  had 
been  exercised  by  the  Council  m  oppo- 
sition to  the  claim  of  Governor  Clin- 
ton, and  was  now  reasserted  in  conflict 
with  Governor  Jay.  De  Witt  Clinton 
was  opposed  to  the  governor,  and  his 
view  of  the  matter  was  sustained  by 
the  convention  to  which  the  question 
was  submitted  by  the  Legislature.  To 
this  decision,  which  cast  the  power  of 
the  State  into  the  hands  of  the  repub- 
lican party,  is  assigned  the  beginning 
of  the  course  of  proscription  which 
embittered  so  greatly  the  subsequent 
political  career  of  Clinton.  He  was 
now,  however,  on  the  rising  tide  of 
popularity,  and  in  1802,  at  the  early 
age  of  thirty-three,  was  appointed 
to  a  vacancy  in  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States,  where  he  took  his  seat 
by  the  side  of  Gouyerneur  Morris,  his 
fellow  representative  from  the  State. 

Clinton  had  been  two  years  in  the 
Senate  when  he  resigned  his  post  to 
assume  the  mayoralty  of  New  York 
as  the  successor  of  Edward  Livingston. 


58  DE  WITT 

He  entered  upon  the  duties  of  this 
office  in  1803,  and  with  several  short 
intervals,  when  he  was  displaced  by 
the  fluctuations  of  party,  continued  to 
hold  it  till  1815.  A  mayor  of  New 
York  at  that  time  differed  not  only  in 
the  manner  of  his  election,  but  in 
many  of  his  employments,  from  his 
successors  of  the  jDresent  day.  He  had 
a  degree  and  variety  of  power  in  his 
hands  for  which  a  senatorship  might 
well  be  exchanged.  He  presided  at 
the  meetings  of  the  Common  Council, 
then  sitting  in  a  single  body.  He  ex- 
ercised also  important  judicial  func- 
tions as  chief  judge  of  the  common  pleas 
and  of  the  criminal  court,  and  at  the 
head  of  the  police.  In  all  these  relations 
Clinton  was  active  and  efficient;  firm 
and  honest  as  a  judge,  resolute  and  in- 
trepid in  checking  riot  and  preserving 
the  peace.  These  were  the  ordinary 
duties  of  a  magistrate.  He  had  others 
to  perform  of  his  own  choosing  and 
advocacy,  growing  out  of  his  tastes  for 
literature  and  science.  Foremost  amono- 
these,  in  point  of  time  and  importance, 
was  the  Free  School  Association,  for 
which  a  charter  was  procured  in  1805. 
The  act  speaks  of  a  single  school,  and 
its  object  was  "to  provide  for  the  edu- 
cation of  poor  children  who  do  not  be- 
long to,  or  are  not  provided  for,  by  any 
religious  society."  The  undertaking 
was  stimulated  by  the  success  of  Lan- 
caster, with  his  direct  and  economical 
system  in  England.  His  plans  were 
followed  by  Clinton  and  his  associates 
in  New  York.  Funds  were  provided 
by  charitable  subscriptions,  Clinton 
himself  soliciting  contributions  from 
door  to  door,  and  the  first  school  was 


CLIJs^TON. 

opened  in  May,  1806,  in  a  small  apart 
ment  in  Bancker  street.  The  corpora- 
tion of  the  city  then  appropriated  a 
building  adjacent  to  the  alms-house  for 
the  purpose,  and  in  1809  the  institu- 
tion found  a  permanent  lodgment  in  a 
building  erected  by  its  funds  on  the 
site  of  an  old  arsenal  which  was  grant- 
ed for  the  purpose.  On  the  completion 
of  this  building,  in  1809,  Clinton,  as 
president  of  the  society,  delivered  an 
opening  address,  noticeable  for  his  en- 
lightened interest  in  the  subject  of 
education,  and  as  a  landmark  whence 
we  may  measure  the  progress  to  the 
present  gigantic  public  school  system 
of  the  city. 

While  holding  the  office  of  the  may- 
oralty, Clinton  was,  in  1805,  elected  a 
State  senator,  which  gave  him  an  op- 
portunity of  directly  influencing  the 
Legislature  in  the  promotion  of  his 
favorite  civic  and  philanthropic  schemes. 
Many  an  act,  under  which  the  present 
generation  enjoys  some  special  privi- 
lege or  benefit,   owes  its  origin  to 
the  sagacity  and  perseverance  of  Clin- 
ton at  Albany.    The  charters  of  the 
Sailor's  Snug  Harbor,  the  old  Manu- 
mission Society,  the  Bloomingdale  Hos- 
pital for  the  Insane,  the  first  insurance 
company  of  the  State,  the  Ameiican 
Academy  of  Arts,  of  which  he  was 
made  president,  acts  in  behalf  of  the 
Orphan  Society,  and  numerous  other  phi- 
lanthropic associations  ;  others  for  the 
benefit  of  medical  science,  and  generally 
relating  to  everything  of  importance 
to  the  welfare  of  the  city,  originated 
with  him  or  were  especially  intrusted 
to  his  guardianship.    In  his  seat  as 
senator,  in  the  Court  of  Errors,  he  deli- 


DB  WITT 

vered  opinions  on  questions  involving 
iniportaut  principles  of  constitutional 
law  and  rights  of  property  which 
gained  the  admiration  of  so  compe- 
tent a  critic  as  Chancellor  Kent. 

AVe  have  enumerated  some  of  the 
liberal  objects  in  the  advancement  of 
the  city  which  engaged  the  attention 
of  Clinton,  at  the  head  of  which  must 
be  ranked  his  personal  efforts  to  secure 
the  benefits  of  education  to  every 
struggling  child  of  poverty  capable 
and  willing  to  receive  them.  The  list 
of  his  good  deeds  in  this  second  forma- 
tive era  of  city  life,  when  New  York 
was  on  the  eve  of  that  movement 
w^hich  has  since  borne  her  so  rapidly  to 
her  proud  eminence  as  a  metropolis  of 
the  nation,  is  not  yet  complete.  "We 
can  hardly  mention  any  liberal  enter- 
prise of  the  city  which  does  not  owe 
something  to  his  fostering  care  and  pro- 
tection. What  Franklin,  in  his  gener- 
ation, did  for  Philadelphia,  De  Witt 
Clinton,  a  half  a  century  later,  accom- 
plished for  New  York.  There  is  a 
period  in  most  institutions  when  the 
first  efforts  of  their  originators  are 
spent ;  the  enthusiasm  of  the  original 
idea  is  worn  off ;  the  scanty  supply  of 
means  exhausted :  when  an  opportune 
deliverer  is  needed  to  save  the  labors 
of  the  original  projector.  Many  useful 
societies,  destined  to  a  long  life,  pass 
through  several  such  stages.  De  Witt 
Clinton  interposed  with  his  friendly 
services  on  more  than  one  crisis  of  the 
kind.  He  took  the  languishing  Acad- 
emy of  Arts  under  his  protection,  ob- 
tained a  charter  for  it,  and  a  local 
habitation  in  the  Grovernment  House, 
near  the  Battery.    This  institution  had 


CLINTON.  59 

found  a  zealous  friend  in  its  founder 
and  first  president.  Chancellor  Livings- 
ton. On  his  death,  Clinton  succeeded 
to  the  vacant  chair.  He  delivered  a 
discourse  before  this  Academy  in  1816. 

The  Historical  Society  was  another 
struggling  enterprise  to  which  he  ren- 
dered the  most  important  assistance. 
It  appealed  to  him  by  considerations 
of  family  history  and  national  pride  to 
which  he  was  never  insensible.  He 
drew  up  th.e  act  of  incorporation,  and 
the  report  seconding  its  adoption  in 
the  Legislature,  and  when  it  was  neces- 
sary to  establish  the  society  on  a  firmer 
pecuniary  basis,  he  prepared  an  elabo- 
rate memorial  of  its  aims  and  objects, 
with  which  he  again  appealed  to  that 
body,  and  secured  an  important  grant 
in  its  favor.  In  1811  he  delivered,  at 
the  anniversary  meeting  of  the  society, 
a  discourse  on  the  history  of  the  Iro- 
quois or  Five  Indian  Nations  of  the 
State,  replete  with  historical  research 
and  philosophical  observation.  He  was 
at  this  time  vice  president  of  the  so- 
ciety. He  succeeded  to  the  presidency 
in  1817. 

The  New  York  Literary  and  Philo- 
sophical Society  was  another  institu- 
tion which  called  for  and  received  his 
aid  from  the  start.  He  was  chosen  its 
first  president,  and  opened  its  public 
proceedings  with  an  admirable  intro- 
ductory discourse,  not  merely  abound- 
ing in  scientific  information,  but  instinct 
with  the  zeal  and  warmth  of  a  lover's 
admiration.  For  natural  history  he 
had  a  great  fondness.  Associated  with 
Mitchill,  Hosack,  and  others,  and  in 
his  tours  through  the  State,  he  devoted 
himself  to  numerous  original  investiga 


DE  WITT  CLINTON. 


GO 

tioiis  recorded  in  his  papers  in  the 
Transactions  of  the  Society  just  spoken 
of,  in  liis  journals,  and  other  publica- 
tions. 

The  period  of  these  interesting  pur- 
suits also  gave  birth  to  those  schemes 
of  internal  improvements  connected 
with  canal  navigation,  with  which  the 
name  of  Clinton  is  indissolubly  linked 
in  his  native  State,  His  attention  had 
early  been  directed,  in  the  annual  mes- 
sages of  his  uncle,  the  fii'st  governor,  to 
the  subject  of  canals  in  New  York. 
That  enlightened  patriot,  in  1791, 
1792,  and  1794,  had  urged  a  liberal 
policy  upon  the  Legislature  in  connec- 
tion with  certain  northern  and  western 
companies  of  inland  lock  navigation. 
In  a  glowing  passage  of  an  address  de- 
livered by  De  Witt  Clinton  as  early  as 
the  last  mentioned  year,  he  had  pro- 
phesied the  influence  of  art  in  changing 
the  face  of  the  world. 

These  early  companies,  confined  to  a 
limited  portion  of  the  State,  were  at- 
tended with  but  little  success.  In 
March,  1810,  the  Legislature  seemed 
disposed  to  take  up  the  matter  in  ear- 
nest in  the  appointment  of  a  committee 
of  which  De  Witt  Clinton  was  a  mem- 
ber, with  Gouverneur  Morris,  Ste- 
phen Van  Eensselaer,  Thomas  Eddy, 
William  North,  Simeon  De  Witt,  and 
Peter  B.  Porter,  charged  with  the  ex- 
ploration of  the  whole  route  from  the 
Hudson  to  Lake  Ontario  and  Lake 
Erie.  The  tour  was  made,^  and  happily 
a  private  journal  kept  of  its  numerous 
interesting  incidents  by  De  Witt  Clin- 
ton. It  remains  a  most  interesting 
picture  of  the  condition  of  the  State 
just  before  its  great  system  of  improve- 


ments was  undertalcen,  which  must  in- 
crease in  value  with  every  succeeding 
year  as  the  country  recedes  from  its 
primitive  aspect.  As  usual,  the  obser- 
ver is  intent  not  merely  on  the  mecha- 
nical advantages,  but  the  general  phy- 
sical conditions  of  the  region  which  he 
traversed.  In  1820  he  sketched  the 
incidents  of  a  similar  journey  in  the 
"  Letters  of  Hibernicus  on  the  Natural 
History  and  Internal  Resources  of  the 
State  of  New  York,"  a  genial  and  ani- 
mated production  of  permanent  inter- 
est. 

The  canal  was  reported  favorably 
upon  by  Gouverneur  Morris,  in  behalf 
of  the  commissioners.  The  Legislature 
renewed  their  powers  and  added  Liv- 
ingston and  Fulton  to  their  council. 
In  furtherance  of  its  designs,  Clinton 
and  Morris  visited  Washino;ton  to  secure 
the  aid  of  the  United  States  Govern- 
ment. President  Madison  and  his  cab- 
inet had  other  affairs  of  more  pressing 
interest  before  them,  and  the  work  was 
left  to  the  exertions  of  Clinton  and  his 
friends  in  his  own  State, 

Before  resuming  our  brief  narrative 
of  Clinton's  connection  with  the  canal 
policy  of  the  State,  we  must  briefly 
state  the  chief  incidents  of  his  political 
career,  from  which  these  scientific  and 
literary  pursuits  were  but  diversions. 
We  have  seen  him  recalled  from  Con 
gress  to  the  mayoralty,  and  sitting  in 
the  State  Senate.  In  1811  he  was 
elected  lieutenant  governor,  and  the 
following  year  put  in  nomination  by  a 
convention  of  his  republican  friends  in 
the  Presidential  election  of  1812,  in 
opposition  to  Madison.  Failing  of  his 
election,  he  was  placed  in  a  somewhat 


DE  WITT 

ambiguous  position  between  the  advo- 
cates of  the  war  and  its  opponents, 
-\rliicli  was  aggravated  by  subsequent 
pai-ty  divisions  in  liis  State,  in  tlie  pro- 
gress of  wliicli  lie  was  tlirown  out  of 
the  mayoralty. 

Clinton,  it  is  said,  was  ambitious  of 
office ;  if  so,  it  was  always  as  a  means 
to  his  useful  and  honorable  ends.  He 
now  found  means  to  pursue  the  latter 
even  without  the  former.  He  now  de- 
termined with  his  friends  to  revive 
the  great  canal  project  which  had  been 
suspended  by  the  war.  A  meeting  of 
influential  citizens  was  called  in  the 
autumn  of  1815,  at  the  City  Hotel,  in 
New  York,  to  which  he  presented  a 
memorial  on  the  whole  subject,  demon- 
strating the  practicability  of  the  union 
of  the  Hudson  with  Lake  Erie,  setting 
forth  the  various  details  and  enforcing 
the  vast  benefits  of  the  work.  Never 
was  a  great  undertaking  more  nobly 
heralded  than  in  this  convincing  docu- 
ment. It  was  sent  abroad  and  numer- 
ously signed  by  the  public,  presented 
in  February,  1816  to  the  Legislature, 
who  had  now  again  the  subject  fully 
before  them.  Clinton  was  again  ap- 
pointed one  of  the  commissioners  of  a 
new  board,  new  reports  were  made, 
and  in  1817  the  construction  of  the 
work  duly  authorized. 

The  same  year  Clinton  was  elected 
by  the  people,  spite  of  party,  governor 
of  the  State,  and  continued  to  hold  the 
office  by  successive  elections  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  single  term  in  1 8 2  3  and  1824, 
till  his  death.  It  was  on  his  gratifying 
reelection,  after  the  interregnum  when 
his  political  enemies  deprived  him  even 
of  his  unpaid  office  of  canal  commis- 
u.— 8 


CLINTON.  61 

sioner,  that  he  had  the  further  satisfac- 
tion of  witnessing  the  completion  of 
the  great  project  of  his  life,  the  Erie 
canal.  The  rejoicings  of  New  York  at 
that  period  belong  to  the  national 
history.  The  celebration  extended 
throughout  the  State.  The  day  which 
crowned  the  work  was  the  26th  of  Oc- 
tober, 1825.  Governor  Clinton,  ac- 
companied by  delegates  from  New 
York  and  the  villages  along  the  line, 
embarked  at  the  western  terminus  of 
the  canal  at  Buffalo,  on  its  waters,  and 
pursued  its  whole  length  to  Albany, 
while  signal  guns,  fired  from  station  to 
station,  rapidly  bore  the  news  of  his 
progress  in  advance  to  New  York. 
The  party  continued  their  course  down 
the  Hudson  to  that  city,  where  they 
were  met  by  a  splendid  flotilla  of 
steamboats  and  other  maritime  dis- 
plays, which  led  them  to  the  ocean, 
when  the  waters  of  Lake  Erie,  as  in 
the  festal  processions  of  Venice  in  the 
Adriatic,  were  mingled  with  the  Atlan- 
tic. 

It  was  a  proud  moment  for  Clinton 
— one  of  those  triumphs  in  the  history 
of  science  when  the  laurels  which  so 
many  deserving  candidates  fail  to  grasp 
are  placed  upon  the  brow  of  some 
favored  individual,  whose  energy  is  at 
last  rewarded  with  success.  Clinton 
had  every  way  a  right  to  the  ovation. 
He  was  a  genuine  son  of  New  York,  a 
growth  of  a  family  tree  which  had 
struck  its  roots  deep  into  the  soil, 
which  had  extorted  nourishment  from 
the  wilderness,  which  had  strengthened 
in  the  blasts  of  the  Kevolution,  had 
encountered  the  fiercer  storm  of  politi- 
cal agitation,  and  survived  many  in- 


62  DE  WITT 

ferior  bretliren  of  tlie  forest  wliicli 
tlirust  their  foliage  between  its  gigantic 
trunk  and  the  sunlight.  We  sicken  as 
we  read  of  the  strife  of  party,  so  un- 
generous in  its  opposition  to  this  great 
man.  It  may  be,  indeed,  that  the  strife 
and  opposition  were  inevitable.  So 
much  the  more  pleasing  are  the  peace- 
ful, beneficent  labors  of  Clinton — in  the 
poet  and  philosopher's  praise  of  Epicu- 
rus, illustrating  the  benefits  of  life, 
adding  to  the  welfare  of  the  race  by 
acts  of  unmitigated  blessing.  The 
heart  of  New  York  should  throb  with 
emotion  at  the  name  of  this  ardent, 
chivalrous  spirit  of  civilization ;  the 
pioneer  and  faithful  guardian  of  so 
much  of  her  prosperity. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  a  culminat- 
ing point  so  near  the  close  of  this  illus- 
trious life,  that  for  our  present  pur- 
poses the  narrative  may  well  close. 
Yet  it  would  be  injustice  to  the  fame 
of  our  great  statesman,  were  we  to 
omit  some  mention  of  the  annual  mes- 
sages which,  as  governor,  he  sent  forth 
to  the  State,  models  of  literary  compo- 
sition as  well  as  of  the  details  of  pub- 
lic business.  He  always  enforced  the 
plans  of  internal  improvement,  sanc- 
tioned by  the  success  of  his  great  en- 
terprise, and  when  occasion  permitted, 
his  language,  as  in  his  review  of  the 
prosperity  of  his  country  in  his  last 
address  of  this  kind  at  the  beginning 
of  1828,  rose  to  moral  beauty. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  message 
was  delivered,  that,  on  the  11th  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1828,  at  the  close  of  a  day  spent 


CLINTON. 

in  public  business,  while  yet  engaged 
with  his  son  in  his  study,  in  the  peru- 
sal of  the  letters  of  the  evening  mail, 
that,  stricken  at  the  heart,  he  almost 
instantaneously  expired. 

The  character  of  De  Witt  Clinton 
needs  no  effort  of  labored  interpreta- 
tion. His  portrait  S23eaks  the  habitual 
gravity  which  sat  on  his  countenance, 
with  an  air  of  pride  which  might  be 
interpreted  haughtiness  or  dignity,  ac- 
cording to  the  feeling  and  knowledge 
of  the  observer.  His  figure  was  tall 
and  commanding.  He  was  active,  an 
early  riser,  incessant  in  toil,  sparing  lit- 
tle for  the  frivolities  of  life  and  the 
arts  by  which  politicians  ingratiate 
themselves  with  their  fellows.  But 
they  who  could  appreciate  worth  and 
goodness  never  mistook  him.  Twice 
married,  he  was  endeared  to  a  large 
family  connection.  Of  the  political 
asperities  which  entangled  so  consider- 
able a  portion  of  a  valuable  life,  we 
have  said  little.  They  undoubtedly 
present  a  curious  subject  of  inquiry,  by 
no  means  unprofitable,  but  this  is  not 
the  place  to  ferret  them  out  from  the 
oblivion  to  which  such  passions  of  the 
hour  are  committed.  There  are  many 
necessary  labors  in  life,  working  to 
good  ends,  the  memory  of  which  we 
do  not  seek  to  perpetuate.  Of  these 
the  petty  details  of  controversial  poli- 
tical warfare,  perhaps,  are  the  least  in- 
teresting to  posterity.  They  dwindle 
and  stand  abashed  before  the  social 
and  philanthropic  benefits  conferred  by 
Clinton. 


OLIVER    HAZARD  PERRY. 


Tile  gallant,  amiable  liero  of  Lake 
Erie,  alike  estimable  as  a  man  and 
admirable  as  a  warrior,  had,  in  his 
blood,  two  elements  which  seldom 
failed  in  our  history,  when  they  were 
put  to  the  proof,  to  bring  forth  the 
matured  fruits  of  patriotism.  His  first 
American  ancestor,  Edmund  Perry,  was 
one  of  the  Devonshire  emiOTants  from 
England,  who  fled  from  religious  perse- 
cution, in  the  seventeenth  century,  to  the 
colony  at  Plymouth,  in  Massachusetts; 
but  unlike  some  of  his  companions 
there,  he  fled  not  from  Laud  and  his 
spiritual  exactions,  but  from  the  fight- 
ing men  of  Cromwell.  He  was  a 
Quaker,  and  his  pacific  tenets  were  at 
war  with  the  temper  of  the  times. 
Nor  did  he  find  rest  at  Plymouth, 
where  on  other  grounds  Quakers  were 
equally  obnoxious.  Like  Roger  Wil- 
liams, he  sought  relief  from  his  breth- 
ren among  the  children  of  the  forest, 
and  like  him  found  a  peaceful  refuge 
with  his  companions  on  the  waters  of 
Narragansett  Bay.  He  purchased  a 
^[uantity  of  land  from  the  Indians,  at  a 
place  called  South  Kingston,  an  estate 
which  continued  to  his  descendants, 
supplied  a  family  home,  and  gave,  in 
due  time,  the  subject  of  our  sketch  to 
the  State  of  Rhode  Island. 

Descending  to  the  great  grandson  of 


Edmund  Perry,  characteristically  named 
Freeman  Perry,  we  find  him  a  man  of 
influence  in  the  colony,  a  lawyer,  a 
judge  and  member  of  the  Colonial  As- 
sembly, married  to  the  daughter  of  a 
wealthy  and  educated  gentleman,  Oli- 
ver Hazard,  also  a  descendant  of  the 
old  Quaker  stock.  Of  this  alliance 
came  the  early  Revolutionary  naval 
hero,  Christopher  Raymond  Perry,  the 
father  of  the  hero  of  Lake  Erie.  "We 
do  not  know  precisely  how  this  Quaker 
gentleman  got  so  intimately  into  the 
wars,  whether  his  principles  were 
weaker,  or  his  logic  stronger  than  that 
of  some  of  his  brethren;  but  no  one 
was  more  resolute,  and  few  sufi'erecl 
more  in  the  cause  of  the  country.  He 
was  in  the  volunteer  service  in  Rhode 
Island^ — he  was  at  sea  in  the  privateer 
service,  in  the  absence  of  a  navy,  a 
more  dignified  and  patriotic  pursuit 
than  it  might  be  at  present.  In  one  of 
these  adventures  he  was  taken  prisoner, 
aad  brought  into  New  York  to  taste 
the  horrors,  at  which  humanity  shud- 
ders, of  the  Jersey  prison-ship.  Smart- 
ing with  the  indignity,  emaciated  with 
fever  on  his  escape,  he  rejoined  his  com- 
rades on  the  ocean,  and  both  in  the 
navy  and  in  the  privateer  service 
fought  gallantly  against  the  foe.  He 
was   captui'ed  again,  and  imprisoned 

6S 


64 


OLIVER   HAZARD  PERRY. 


for  eighteen  months  in  Ireland ;  escap- 
ing once  more,  he  reached  America 
when  the  war  was  over.  All  this 
occurred  when  he  was  hut  a  youth,  for 
he  was  only  twenty-two  at  the  declara- 
tion of  peace. 

Still  following  the  sea,  we  next  find 
him  mate  of  a  merchantman  sailing  to 
Ireland.  Upon  his  return  voyage,  he 
falls  in  love  with  one  of  the  passengers, 
Sarah  Alexander,  of  Irish  birth  and 
Scotch  descent.  Both,  at  this  time,  are 
spoken  of  as  remarkable  for  their  per- 
sonal beauty,  and  force  of  character. 
The  next  year,  1784,  Captain  Perry 
married  his  blooming  acquaintance,  and 
the  pair  made  their  home  at  the  old 
family  estate  in  Rhode  Island. 

There  Oliver  Hazard  Perry  was 
born,  August  23,  1785.  The  late  Com- 
mander Mackenzie  of  the  navy,  who 
possessed,  what  we  may  term,  a  fine 
biographic  faculty,  has  traced  in  his 
interesting  narrative  of  the  Life  of 
Perry,  with  fond  minuteness,  the  early 
incidents  of  the  boy's  career.  The 
chief  characteristics,  he  tells  us,  "  were 
an  uncommon  share  of  beauty,  a  sweet- 
ness and  gentleness  of  disposition, 
which  corroborated  the  expression  of 
his  countenance,  and  a  perfect  disregard 
of  danger,  amounting  to  apparent  un- 
consciousness." This  biographer  gives 
some  curious  anecdotes  of  his  school 
days.  His  first  schoolmaster  was  an 
odd  specimen  of  the  race.  He  was  a 
kindly  old  gentleman  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, an  amateur  of  the  profession, 
whose  humor  it  was,  reversing  the 
usual  relation  between  wisdom  and  her 
followers,  himself  actually  to  lie  in  bed 
in  the  schoolroom  while  the  scholars 


surrounded  his  couch,  the  nearest,  of 
course,  coming  in  for  the  most  flogging. 
Then  there  was  "old  Master  Kelly," 
the  instructor  of  three  generations, 
at  Tower  Hill,  some  four  miles  otf, 
whither  the  young  Oliver  accompanied 
his  fair  cousins,  and  learnt  more  of 
grace  and  humanity  from  their  com- 
pany, than  even  from  the  proverbial 
emolUt  mores  of  the  pedagogue.  A 
man  who  serves  three  generations  is 
likely  to  be  an  old  boy  with  those  who 
come  last,  and  we  are  not  surprised  to 
learn  that  Kelly  retired  "from  sheer 
superannuation."  The  succession  of 
schoolmasters  at  Tower  Hill  then  be- 
came a  little  unsteady.  The  new  man 
from  Connecticut  did  not  stay  long. 
The  one  who  came  after  him  had  his 
virtues,  but  was  intemperate.  Men  of 
genius  who  stumble  into  that  vocation 
are  sometimes  di-iven  there  by  drink,  a 
fatal  habit  which  banishes  them  from 
higher  positions  to  which  they  are  bet- 
ter entitled.  In  this  way,  you  will 
occasionally  meet  with  a  most  accom- 
plished scholar  in  very  humble  circum- 
stances. If  so,  accept  the  benefit  with 
thanks,  nor  look  too  narrowly  at 
the  inscrutable  providence  which  has 
brought  a  learned,  and,  perhaps,  amia- 
ble man  to  your  village,  sent  and 
retained  there  by  the  fearful  bond  of 
his  master  vice.  He  may  not  be  all  in 
ruin. 

The  careful  student  of  Perry's  life 
will  not  regret  these  notices  of  his 
schoolmasters,  who  frequently  stand 
next  to  a  boy's  parents  in  the  forma- 
tion of  his  character.  But  we  must 
here  refer  the  reader  to  Mackenzie's 
biography  for  the  more  particular  nar- 


OLIVER   HAZARD  PERRY. 


65 


rative.  Suffice  it  to  say,  tliat  the  fam- 
ily removing  to  Newport  about  tliis 
time,  Perry  found  good  opportunities 
of  education  at  that  place,  and  availed 
himself  of  them  in  a  manly  spiiit. 
He  was  especially  instructed  in  mathe- 
matics, and  their  application  to  naviga- 
tion and  nautical  astronomy.  As  proof 
of  the  hoy's  ingenuousness,  and  the 
interest  he  excited  in  intelligent  ob- 
servers, it  is  related  that  Count  Eocham- 
beau,  the  son  of  the  General  of  the 
Revolution,  then  residing  at  Newport, 
was  particularly  attracted  to  him,  and 
that  Bishop  Seabury,  on  his  visitation, 
marked  him  as  a  boy  of  religious  feel- 
ing. These  are  traits  which  shape  the 
man  ;  we  shall  find  them  reappearing 
in  the  maturity  of  Peny's  life,  in  his 
worth,  humanity  and  refinement. 

The  boy  was  but  thirteen  when  his 
father,  in  1Y98,  was  called  into  the 
naval  service  of  his  country  in  the  spi- 
rited effort  made  by  President  Adams 
to  resist  the  aggressions  of  France  upon 
the  ocean.  He  took  the  command  of  a 
small  frigate,  built  under  his  direction 
in  Rhode  Island,  named  the  General 
Greene,  and  carried  with  him  to  sea 
his  son  Oliver  as  a  midshipman,  at  the 
express  solicitation  of  the  youth.  The 
General  Greene  was  actively  employed 
in  the  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
o-iving  all  its  officers  abundant  oppor- 
tunity for  practice  in  the  infant  service. 
The  French  war  flurry  after  awhile 
blew  over,  as  the  Directory,  the  main- 
spring of  these  aggressions,  lost  power ; 
peace  was  patched  up,  and  Jefferson 
shortly  after  inaugurated  an  unwhole- 
some pacific  policy  by  a  sweeping 
reduction  of  the  navy,  as  if  it  had  not 


been  small  enough  abeady.  In  this 
mutilating  operation  the  elder  Perry 
was  dropped,  the  younger  one  fortu- 
nately retained. 

The  navy,  however,  was  soon  revived 
by  the  demands  of  the  nation  to  resist 
the  iniquitous  and  insulting  depreda- 
tions upon  life  and  property  inflicted 
by  the  Barbary  powers.  The  United 
States  had  borne  far  too  patiently  with 
these  injuries,  though  she  had  the 
honor  of  being  in  advance  of  the  old 
powers  of  Europe  in  resisting  them. 
The  Mediterranean  became  the  scene 
of  many  a  chivalrous  exploit  of  our 
early  officers,  a  score  of  whom  headed 
by  Preble,  Bainbridge,  Decatur,  Som- 
ers,  and  others  of  that  stamp  of  fiery 
and  indomitable  valor,  gained  immor- 
tal laurels  in  their  deeds  of  daring  in 
conflict  with  the  infidel 

The  young  Perry  served  as  midship- 
man in  the  frigate  Adams,  which  sailed 
from  Newport,  in  1802,  to  join  Com- 
modore Morris'  command  at  Gibraltar, 
His  ship  was  for  some  time  employed 
in  blockading  a  Tripolitan  at  that  port, 
a  tedious  but  instructive  service  in  ma- 
noeuvring, at  the  close  of  which.  Perry, 
in  consequence  of  his  accomplishments, 
was  promoted  by  his  captain  to  the 
duties  of  a  lieutenant.  The  frigate  was 
then  employed  as  a  convoy,  making  the 
tour  of  the  northern  ports.  This  gave 
Perry  an  opportunity  to  study  scenes 
of  the  old  world,  which  can  never  lose 
their  influence  in  the  formation  of 
the  man  of  education  and  refinement. 
Cooper,  whose  eye  was  always  open  to 
every  generous  influence,  notices  the 
effect  of  this  culture  of  travel  to  foreign 
shores.    "There  is  little  doubt,"  says 


GO 


OLIVER   HAZARD  PERRY. 


he,  "  that  one  of  the  reasons  why  the 
American  marine  early  obtained  a 
thirst  for  a  knowledge  that  is  not  uni- 
formly connected  with  the  pursuits  of 
a  seaman,  and  a  taste,  which,  perhaps, 
was  above  the  level  of  that  of  the  gen- 
tlemen of  the  country,  was  owing  to 
the  circumstance  that  the  wars  with 
Barbary  called  its  officers  so  much,  at 
the  most  critical  period  of  its  existence, 
into  that  quarter  of  Europe.  Travel- 
lers to  the  old  world  were  then  ex- 
tremely rare,  and  the  American  who, 
forty  years  ago,  could  converse  as  an 
eye  witness  of  the  marvels  of  the  Medi- 
terranean— who  had  seen  the  remains 
of  Carthage,  or  the  glories  of  Constan- 
tinople— who  had  visited  the  Coliseum, 
or  was  familiar  with  the  aflSuence  of 
Naples,  was  more  than  half  the  time, 
in  some  way  or  other,  connected  with 
the  navy." 

At  the  close  of  1803,  Perry  returned 
to  America  in  his  ship,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Commodore  Morris,  and  was 
not  again  employed  in  active  service 
till  he  was  sent  to  tlie  Mediterranean 
again  in  the  Constellation,  which  did 
not  reach  the  scene  of  hostilities  on  the 
African  coast,  till  the  more  daring  ope- 
rations of  the  war  were  over.  He 
returned  home  at  the  close  of  1806, 
when  he  was  set  upon  the  construction 
and  equipment  of  those  famous  gun- 
boats, the  pet  Lobby  of  Jefferson,  for 
home  defence,  which  exacted  many  a 
rebellious  oath  from  the  blue  water 
sailors,  condemned*  to  rust  in  harbor. 
But,  however  distasteful  the  service 
may  have  been.  Perry  acquitted  him- 
self to  the  satisfaction  of  the  govern- 
ment in  its  prosecution. 


In  1809,  however,  Perry  got  to  sea 
in  command  of  an  armed  schooner,  tbe 
Revenge,  which  was  employed  on  the 
coast  service.  While  on  the  south- 
ern coast,  lie  had  an  opportunity  to 
gain  distinction,  which  he  did  not  fail 
to  avail  himself  of,  in  cutting  out  a 
stolen  American  vessel  from  under  the 
guns  of  a  Britisb  ship  in  Spanish 
waters,  off  Florida.  Conveying  his 
prize  off  the  coast,  he  was  threatened 
by  his  majesty's  ship  Goree,  of  double 
his  force,  when,  having,  as  Mackenzie 
says,  "no  idea  of  being  '  Leopardized,' " 
he  put  his  little  schooner  in  readiness 
for  boarding  at  a  moment's  notice — a 
spirited  resolution  of  great  bravery, 
which  he  would  no  doubt  have  carried 
out,  had  the  British  vessel  insisted  upon 
overhauling  the  Revenge.  While  en- 
gaged in  the  cruising  off  Connecticut 
and  Rhode  Island,  in  the  beginning  of 
1811,  lie  unfortunately  lost  his  vessel 
through  an  error  of  the  pilot,  on  the 
Watch  Hill  Reef,  opposite  Fisher's 
Island,  as  he  was  sailing  from  Newport 
to  New  London.  Every  seamanlike 
effort  was  made  to  save  the  vessel,  and 
when  all  was  unavailing.  Perry  show^ed 
equal  skill  and  resolution  in  landing 
the  crew  in  a  heavy  January  swell, 
with  a  violent  wind.  He  was  himself 
the  last  to  leave  the  vessel.  He  was 
not  merely  acquitted  of  censure,  but 
his  conduct  was  extolled  by  a  court  of 
inquiry. 

He  was,  of  course,  by  the  loss  of  his 
vessel,  thrown  temporarily  out  of  com- 
mand, an  interval  of  repose  which  he 
hastened  to  turn  to  account  by  forming 
a  matrimonial  alliance  with  Miss  Eliza- 
beth Champlin  Mason,  of  an  influential 


OLIVER  HAZARD  PERRY. 


67 


family,  at  Ne^\7)ort,  to  whom  lie  Lad 
become  engaged  several  years  before, 
on  Lis  arrival  from  tLe  Mediterranean. 
The  wedding  took  place  in  May,  1811, 
affording  Lim  ample  opportunity  for 
tLe  Loneymoon,  previous  to  tLe  actual 
outbreak  of  tLe  war  witL  England  now 
impending. 

TLis  event  found  Lim  at  New[3ort, 
AvitL  tLe  rank  of  master  commandant, 
in  cLarge  of  tLe  flotilla  of  gunboats 
keeping  watcL  in  tLe  Larbor.  It  was 
a  service  not  altogetLer  adapted  to 
satisfy  tLe  ambitious  spirit  of  a  j^oung 
ofiicer,  but  it  was  important  in  itself, 
and  became  in  Perry's  Lands  a  step  to 
future  eminence.  His  course,  at  tLis 
time,  illustrates  a  valuable  trutL,  tLat 
no  Lonorable  employment  is  profitless 
to  a  man  of  genius.  He  will  in  some 
way  turn  it  to  account.  Constructing 
gunboats,  and  recruiting  men  in  port, 
were  services  not  calculated  to  make 
any  great  blaze  in  a  dispatcL,  but  tLey 
conducted  Perry  to  Lis  glorious  bulle- 
tins of  victory,  and  tLe  resounding 
praises  of  tLe  nation. 

He  saw  tLe  new  field  of  military 
operations  opening  on  tLe  lakes,  and 
Lis  experienced  eye  must  Lave  seen  as 
well  tLe  certain  difficulties  as  tLe  possi- 
ble Lonors  of  tLe  situation.  It  was 
not  tLe  post  wLicL  an  officer,  vntL  tLe 
claims  of  Perry,  would  Lave  sougLt, 
wLile  brilliant  victories  were  being 
enacted,  in  tLe  eye  of  tLe  world,  on 
tLe  vast  tLeatre  of  tLe  ocean.  OtLers, 
Lowever,  were  before  Lim  on  tLat  ele- 
ment. He  was  emulous  of  tLeir 
acLievements,  but  no  petty  jealousy 
hindered  Lim  from  swelling  tLeir 
praises  in  concert  witL  tLe  national. 


acclamation.    Yet  Le  sougLt  employ- 
ment in  active  service  witL  a  restless 
imindse.    Despairing  of  a  command  at 
sea,  Le  offered  Limself  to  Commodore 
CLauncey,   wLo    Lad    been  recently 
placed  at  tLe  Lead  of  tLe  lake  service. 
His  cLaracter  was  understood  by  tLis 
officer,  and  tLe  proffer  accepted.  TLe 
necessary  communications  were  made 
to  tLe  government,  and  in  tLe  middle 
of  February,  in  1813,  Le  was  ordered 
to  join  CLauncey  at  Sackett's  Harbor, 
witL  tLe  picked  men  of  Lis  Newport 
flotilla.    He  lost  no  time  in  reporting 
Limself  at  tLe  appointed  spot.  His 
destination  was  Lake  Erie,  wLere  Le 
was  to  supervise  tLe  construction  of 
two  vessels  to  be  employed  in  tLe  next 
campaign,  and  Le  was  anxious  to  get 
to  tLe  work ;  but  CLauncey,  wLo  felt 
tLe  need  of  Lis  aid,  detained  Lim  for  a 
wLile  on  Lake  Ontario.    He  Lowever, 
towards  tLe  end  of  MarcL,  readied 
Erie,  wLere  tLe  vessels  were  building, 
under  tLe  direction  of  NoaL  Brown, 
tLe  sLipwrigLt  of  New  York,  and  sail- 
ing master  Dobbins,  of  tlie  navy.  His 
experience   in   constructing  gunboats 
at  Newport  was  now  of  avail  to  Lim. 
He  put  tLe  defence  of  tLe  works,  wLicL 
Lad  been  greatly  neglected,  in  a  state 
of  efficiency,  and  set  Limself  to  tLe 
collection  of  supplies,  workmen,  and 
an  armament :  no  easy  matter  at  tLat 
day  and  in  tLat  place  in  tLe  wilder- 
ness ;  for  sucL,  as  compared  witL  our 
own  time,  it  tLen  was.    TLe  labors  of 
Perry,  in  tLis  work  of  preparation, 
were  in  fact   of  tLe   most  arduous 
cLaracter.    TLey  should  not  be  forgot 
ten  as  a  heavy  item  to  his  credit  in 
the  sum  total  of  his  victory.  Three 


tiS 


OLIVER  HAZARD  PERRY. 


gunboats  and  two  brigs  were  launclied 
and  equipped  in  May. 

It  was  at  this  time  tliat  lie  received 
advices  that  Chauncey  was  about  to 
make  an  attack  on  the  British  post  of 
Fort  George,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Nia- 
gara river.    He  had  been  promised  a 
share  in  this  adventure,  and  hastened 
to  the  scene.    The  incidents  of  this 
journey  show  the  spirit  of  the  man. 
In  his  own  words,  in  a  letter  describing 
this  passage  of  his  life,  "  on  the  evening 
of  the  twenty-third  of  May,  I  received 
information,  about  sunset,  that  Commo- 
dore Chauncey  would  in  a  day  or  two 
aiTive   at   Niagara,  when   an  attack 
would  be  made  on  Fort  George.  He 
had  previously  promised  me  the  com- 
mand of  the  seamen  and  marines  that 
might  land  from  the  fleet.  Without 
hesitation  I  determined  to  join  him.  I 
left  Erie  about  dark  in  a  small  four- 
oared   open   boat.     The    night  was 
squally  and  very  dark.    After  encoun- 
tering head  winds  and  many  difficul- 
ties, I  an'ived  at  Buffalo  on  the  evening 
of  the  twenty-fourth,  refreshed,  and 
remained  there  until  daylight ;  I  then 
passed  the  whole  of  the  British  lines 
in  my  boat,  within  musket-shot.  Pass- 
ing Strawberry  Island,  several  people 
on  our  side  of  the  river  hailed  and 
beckoned  me  on  shore.    On  landing 
they  pointed  out  about  forty  men  on 
the-  end  of  Grand  Island,  who,  doubt- 
less, were  placed   there  to  intercept 
boats.    In  a  few  moments  I  should 
have  been  in  their  hands.    I  then  pro- 
ceeded with  more  caution.    As  we  ar- 
rived at  Schlosser,  it  rained  violently. 
No  horse  could  be  procured.    I  deter- 
mined to  push  forward  on  foot ;  walked 


about  two  miles  and  a  half,  when  the 
rain  fell  in  such  torrents  I  was  obliged 
to  take  shelter  in  a  house  at  hand. 
The  sailors  whom  I  had  left  with  the 
boat,  hearing  of  public  horses  on  the 
commons,  determined  to  catch  one  for 
me.  They  found  an  old  pacing  one 
which  could  not  run  away,  and  brought 
him  in,  rigged  a  rope  from  the  boat 
into  a  bridle,  and  borrowed  a  saddle 
without  either  stirrup,  girth,  or  crup- 
per. Thus  accoutred  they  pursued  me, 
and  found  me  at  the  house  where  I  had 
stopped.  The  rain  ceasing,  I  mounted ; 
my  legs  hung  down  the  sides  of  the 
horse,  and  I  was  obliged  to  steady  the 
saddle  by  holding  by  the  mane.  In 
this  style  I  entered  the  camp,  it  raining 
again  most  violently.  Colonel  Porter 
being  the  first  to  discover  me,  insisted 
upon  my  taking  his  horse,  as  I  had 
some  distance  to  ride  to  the  other  end 
of  the  camp,  off  which  the  Madison 
lay." 

Having  thus  reached  headquarters, 
arrangements  were  rajDidly  made,  and 
the  landing  of  the  troops  assigned  to 
Perry.  In  the  ignorance  or  inexperi- 
ence of  some  of  the  officers,  there  was 
considerable  confusion  in  directing  the 
boats  in  the  river,  which  was  remedied 
by  Perry's  vigilance  and  decision.  He 
was  everywhere,  in  the  midst  of  danger, 
guiding  and  directing ;  the  unexpected 
attack  of  the  British  was  met  by  his 
energy,  the  landing  effected,  and  the 
object  of  the  expedition  accomplished. 
This  victory  opened  the  port  of  Black 
Eock,  where  several  American  vessels 
were  collected,  which  Perry  undertook 
to  get  into  Lake  Erie  against  the  strong 
current  of  the  river,  a  feat  which  was 


OLIVER   HAZARD  TERRY. 


60 


aecoinplislied  with  extraordinaiy  fa- 
tio'ue:  so  tliat  lie  returned  to  Lis  sta- 
tion,  at  Erie,  witli  a  respectable  addi- 
tion of  five  vessels  to  liis  own  newly 
launched  little  fleet  in  that  harbor. 
To  one  of  the  vessels  which  he  had 
built,  a  name  was  given  by  a  disaster 
which  saddened  the  heart  of  the 
countr}^.  An  order  from  the  navy  de- 
partment assigned  the  name  of  the  gal- 
lant Lawrence,  who  had  fallen  on  the 
first  of  June,  on  the  deck  of  the  Ches- 
apeake. It  was  with  the  dying  excla- 
mation of  Lawrence,  as  we  shall  see, 
that  Perry  led  his  fleet  into  action. 

There  was  some  delay  in  gathering 
men  and  materials  of  war  in  the  har- 
bor, locked  in  by  the  inclosing  penin- 
sula, and  half  closed  at  its  mouth  by  a 
bar  which  seemed  an  equal  defence  to 
the  force  within  and  the  enemy  with- 
out, A  reinforcement  of  men  at  last 
arrived,  when  Perry,  though  by  no 
means  provided  with  all  or  what  he 
could  have  wished,  urged  by  the  de- 
mands of  General  Harrison,  in  the 
upper  country,  for  aid,  and  the  advance 
of  the  season,  determined  upon  going 
into  action  at  the  earliest  moment. 
The  British  commander,  Captain  Bar- 
clay, a  gallant  officer  who  had  seen 
much  service,  expected  an  easy  prey 
while  the  vessels  were  embarrassed  on 
the  bar ;  and  he  might  have  enjoyed  it 
under  a  less  vigilant  opponent.  It  is 
said  that  the  English  cajjtain  was 
drawn  off  to  an  entertainment  on 
shore,  the  Sunday  afternoon  when  Per- 
ry, by  the  aid  of  camels  floated  under 
the  brigs,  diminishing  the  draught, 
conducted  the  operations  which  ended 
in  getting  his  fleet  fairly  afloat.  More 
n.— 9 


than  a  month  was  now  passed  in  watcli- 
ing  the  enemy  and  seeking  an  engage- 
ment, during  which  Perry  was  strengtli- 
ened  by  a  reinforcement  brought  from 
Lake  Ontario  by  Captain  Jesse  D.  El- 
liott, and  the  British  added  to  their 
force  their  new  vessel,  the  Detroit,  at 
Maiden.  Perry  watched  the  enemy 
from  the  islands  in  the  neighborhood 
of  this  place,  at  the  head  of  the  lake, 
and  from  the  near  harbor  of  Sandusky. 

The  day  of  the  threatened  engage- 
ment at  length  came,  the  tenth  of  Sep- 
tember. The  American  force  was  com- 
posed of  the  brigs  Lawrence  and 
Niagara,  of  twenty  guns  each,  com- 
manded respectively  by  Perry  and  El- 
liott, and  seven  smaller  vessels  number- 
ing in  all  fifty-four  guns.  Captain 
Barclay,  on  the  other  side,  had  the  De- 
troit, of  nineteen  guns,  the  Queen 
Charlotte,  Lady  Prevost,  and  three  other 
vessels,  numbering  altogether  sixty- 
three  guns.'^  The  range  of  the  enemy's 
guns  gave  them  the  advantage  at  a  dis- 
tance, when  the  corresponding  Ameri- 
can fire  was  ineffectual.  The  Ameri- 
cans, too,  were  under  a  disadvantage 
in  the  enfeebled  state,  of  the  crew,  by 
the  general  illness  which  prevailed 
among  them  from  the  season  of  the 
year,  the  climate,  or  the  unwholesome- 
ness  of  the  water.  The  British  force 
had  undoubtedly  the  superiority  in 
trained  men  as  compared  with  Perry's 
extemporized  miscellaneous  command, 
and  untried  junior  officers.  The  latter 
proved,  however,  to  be  of  the  right 
material. 

On  the  morning  of  the  engagement 


'  Cooper's  Naval  Biography,  memoir  of  Perry. 


70 


OLIVER  HAZARD  PERRY. 


the  American  fleet  Wcas  among  tlie  is- 
lands off  Maiden  at  Put-in  Bay,  wlien 
tlie  Britisli  fleet  bore  up.  There  was 
some  difficulty  at  first  in  clearing  the 
islands,  and  the  nature  of  the  wind 
seemed  likely  to  throw  Perry  upon  the 
defensive,  when  a  southeast  breeze 
springing  up,  enabled  him  to  bear 
down  upon  the  enemy.  This  was  at 
ten  o'clock  of  a  fine  autumnal  morning. 
Perry  arranged  his  vessels  in  line,  tak- 
ing the  lead  in  his  flagship,  the  Law- 
rence, on  which  he  now  raised  the  sig- 
nal for  action,  a  blue  flag,  inscribed  in 
large  white  letters,  with  the  words  of 
the  dying  Lawrence,  "  Don't  give  up 
the  ship  !"  He  accompanied  this  move- 
ment with  an  appeal  to  his  men.  "  My 
brave  lads,  this  flag  contains  the  last 
words  of  Captain  Lawrence.  Shall  I 
hoist  it  ?"  "  Ay  ay,  sir !"  was  the  wil- 
ling response.  In  this  way  he  cheered 
the  men  in  the  awful  pause,  "  a  dead 
silence  of  an  hour  and  a  half,"  preced- 
ing the  action,  for  the  vessels  were 
long  in  the  light  breeze  in  overcoming 
the  intermediate  distance  of  several 
miles.  "  This  is  the  time,"  says  Wash- 
ington Irving,  in  his  narrative,  written 
shortly  after  the  day,  "  when  the  stout- 
est heart  beats  quick,  and  '  the  boldest 
holds  his  breath ;'  it  is  the  still  mo- 
ment of  direful  expectation — of  fearful 
looking  out  for  slaughter  and  destruc- 
tion— when  even  the  glow  of  pride 
and  ambition  is  chilled  for  a  while, 
and  nature  shudders  at  the  awful  jeop- 
ardy of  existence.  The  very  order  and 
regularity  of  naval  discipline  heighten 
the  dreadful  quiet  of  the  moment.  No 
bustle,  no  noise  prevails  to  distract  the 
mind,  except  at  intervals  the  shrill  pip- 


ing of  the  boatswain's  whistle,  or  a 
murmuring  whisper  among  the  men, 
who,  grouped  around  their  guns,  ear- 
nestly regard  the  movements  of  the 
foe,  now  and  then  stealing  a  wistful 
glance  at  the  countenances  of  their 
commanders." 

Perry,  who  knew  the  perils  of  the 
day,  prepared  his  papers  as  if  for  death. 
He  leaded  the  public  documents  in 
readiness  to  be  cast  overboard,  and,  a 
touching  trait  of  these  moments,  gave 
a  hurried  perusal  to  his  wife's  letters, 
and  tore  them  to  pieces  lest  they  should 
be  read  by  the  enemy. 

The  awful  silence  is  suddenly  bro- 
ken by  a  bugle  sounded  on  board  the 
Detroit,  and  the  cheers  of  the  British 
seamen.  A  shot  from  that  vessel  fell 
short  of  its  mark.  The  Lawrence 
bears  on  to  meet  the  fire,  accompanied 
by  the  other  vessels  of  the  command 
in  appointed  order,  each  destined  for 
its  appropriate  antagonist.  At  noon 
the  British  fire,  from  the  superior  long 
guns,  was  telling  fearfully  on  the  Ame- 
rican force,  when  Perry  made  all  sail 
for  close  quarters,  bringing  the  Law- 
rence within  reach  of  the  Detroit.  He 
maintained  a  steady,  well-directed  fire 
from  his  carronades,  assisted  by  the 
Scorpion  and  Ariel.  The  destruction 
on  the  deck  of  the  Lawrence  was  fear- 
ful. Out  of  a  hundred  well  men, 
says  Mackenzie,  who  had  gone  into 
action,  twenty-two  were  killed  and 
sixty-one  wounded.  We  shall  not  in- 
sult the  humanity  of  the  reader  by 
the  details  of  this  fearful  carnage.  It 
has  probably  never  been  exceeded  in 
the  terrors  of  the  "  dying  deck,"  in 
naval  warfare. 


OLIVER  HAZARD  PERRY. 


71 


In  the  midst  of  this  storm  of  con- 
flict, Perry,  finding  his  ship  getting 
disabled,  and  seeing  the  Niagara  un- 
injured at  a  safe  distance,  resolved  to 
change  his  flag  to  that  vessel.  He 
had  half  a  mile  to  traverse,  exposed 
to  the  fire  of  the  enemy  in  an  open 
boat.  Nothing  deterred,  with  the  ex- 
clamation, "If  a  victory  is  to  be 
gained  I'll  gain  it,"  he  made  the  pas- 
sage, part  of  the  time  standing  as 
a  target  for  the  hostile  guns.  Fifteen 
minutes  were  passed  exposed  to  this 
plunging  fire,  which  splintered  the 
oars  and  covered  the  boat  with  spray. 
The  Lawrence,  stripped  of  officers  and 
men,  was  compelled  to  surrender. 

Perry  instantly  bore  up  to  the  De- 
troit, the  guns  of  which  were  plied  re- 
solutely, when  she  became  entangled 
with  her  consort,  the  Queen  Charlotte, 
and  the  Niagara  poured  a  deadly  fire 
into  both  vessels.  This  cannonade  de- 
cided the  battle  in  seven  minutes, 
when  the  enemy  surrendered.  The 
American  loss  in  this  engagement  was 
twenty-seven  killed  and  ninety-six 
wounded  ;  that  of  the  British  forty-one 
killed  and  ninety-four  wounded.^  Gal- 
lant actions  were  performed  and  noble 
men  fell  on  both  sides.  It  was  every 
way  a  splendid  victory,  placing  the 
genius  of  Perry  and  his  magnanimous, 
spirited  conduct  throughout,  in  the 
highest  rank  of  naval  exertion. 

The  memorable  letters,  brief,  at  once 
eloquent  and  modest,  which  he  wrote 
that  afternoon  announcing  his  victory, 
are  too  characteristic  to  be  omitted  in 
any  pei'sonal  account  of  the  man.  Ad- 


'  Mackenzie's  Life  of  Perry,  I.  221-253. 


dl  'essing  General  Harrison,  he  wiites : 
"  Dear  General — We  have  met  the  ene- 
my and  they  are  ours.  Two  ships,  two 
brigs,  one  schooner  and  one  sloop. 
Yours,  with  very  great  respect  and  es- 
teem. O.  H.  Perry."  The  other  was 
to  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  :  "  Sir,  it 
has  pleased  the  Almighty  to  give  to 
the  arms  of  the  United  States  a  si<?nal 

ZD 

victory  over  their  enemies  on  this 
lake.  The  British  squadron,  consist- 
ing of  two  ships,  two  brigs,  one 
schooner  and  one  sloop,  have  this  mo- 
ment surrendered  to  the  force  under 
my  command,  after  a  sharp  conflict.  I 
have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  very  respect- 
fully, your  obedient  servant.  O.  11. 
Perry."  In  consonance  with  this  sim- 
ple eloquence,  the  mark  of  a  master 
mind,  was  his  chivalrous  care  of  his 
wounded  and  conduct  toward  his  pris- 
oners. 

Let  the  pen  of  "Washington  Irving 
bear  witness  at  this  time  to  the  character 
of  Perry  as  a  gentleman,  that  highest 
style  of  man.  In  the  contemporary 
narrative  already  cited  he  says :  "  Com- 
modore Perry,  like  most  of  our  naval 
officers,  is  yet  in  the  prime  of  youth. 
He  is  of  a  manly  and  prepossessing  ap- 
pearance ;  mild  and  unassuming  in  his 
address,  amiable  in  his  disposition,  and 
of  great  firmness  and  decision.  Thouo'h 
early  launched  among  the  familiar 
scenes  of  naval  life — and  nowhere  is 
familiarity  more  apt  to  be  licentious 
and  encroaching — yet  the  native  gen- 
tility and  sober  dignity  of  his  deport- 
ment, always  chastened,  without  re- 
straining the  freedom  of  intimacy.  It 
is  pleasing  thus  to  find  public  services 
accompanied  by  private  vuiiues ;  to 


■72 


OLIVER  HAZARD  PERRY. 


discover  no  drawbacks  on  our  esteem^ 
no  base  alloy  in  the  man  we  are  dis- 
posed to  admire ;  but  a  character  full 
of  moral  excellence,  of  high-minded 
courtesy,  and  pure,  unsullied  honor." 

The  victory  having  been  gained,  and 
the  lake  thus  cleared  of  the  foe.  Perry 
was  enabled  to  act  in  concert  with 
General  Harrison  in  driving  the  British 
from  Michigan ;  and  when  his  fleet 
Avas  of  no  avail  to  follow  them  in  their 
rapid  flight,  he  joined  that  officer's  land 
expedition,  and  was  present,  acting  as 
his  aid,  at  the  battle  of  the  Thames. 
"  The  appearance  of  the  brave  commo- 
dore," wi'ites  Harrison  in  his  official 
repoii;,  "  cheered  and  animated  every 
heart."  Perry  also  gained  the  grati- 
tude of  the  Moravians  in  whose  dis- 
trict the  contest  took  place,  by  his  care 
in  relieving  the  inevitable  evils  of  war. 

He  met  everywhere  on  his  homeward 
route  with  complimentary  toasts  and 
resolutions,  gathering  volume  as  he 
reached  his  native  State,  where  he  was 
received  at  Newport  with  military  and 
civic  honors.  The  city  of  New  York 
paid  him  a  grateful  attention  in  a  re- 
quest communicated  by  De  Witt  Clin- 
ton, then  mayor,  to  sit  for  his  portrait 
for  the  civic  gallery.  The  portrait  was 
painted  by  Jarvis,  representing  him  in 
the  act  of  boarding  the  Niagara,  and  is 
preserved  in  the  City  Hall.  He  was 
created  an  honorary  member  of  the 
Cincinnati ;  Congress  voted  him  a  medal 
and  money ;  he  was  dined  and  feasted 
and  "  blazed  the  comet  of  the  season." 

In  one  of  the  letters  of  Judge  Story, 
always  a  genial  observant  of  what  was 
passing  before  him,  there  is  characteris- 
tic mention  of  one  of  those  festival 


scenes  at  Baltimore.  "  It  so  happened," 
says  he,  "that  in  the  evening  of  our 
arrival  there  was  a  ball  given  in  honor 
of  Commodore  Perry,  and  the  mana- 
gers politely  sent  invitations  to  all  our 
party.  Fatigued  as  we  were,  we  deter- 
mined to  attend.  The  scene  was  truly 
splendid :  at  one  end  of  the  room 
there  was  a  transparent  painting  repre- 
senting the  battle,  and  on  a  given  sig- 
nal the  British  flag  was  struck  and  the 
American  soon  after  hoisted  in  its 
stead.  The  shouts  and  clapping  were 
loud  and  reiterated.  One  impulse  of 
joy  and  congratulation  seized  every 
heart.  One  person  only  seemed  silent 
in  the  scene.  It  was  the  Commodore 
himself.  He  is  a  very  handsome,  intel- 
ligent, modest  gentleman,  and  bears 
his  unequalled  honors  meekly  and 
calmly.  He  is  scarcely  turned  of  twen- 
ty-eight years,  and  yet  has  all  the  self- 
command  of  fifty." 

Perry's  next  service  was  in  August, 
1814,  in  command  of  the  Java,  44,  a 
frigate  recently  built  at  Baltimore.  He 
was,  however,  not  able  to  get  to  sea,  in 
consequence  of  the  blockade  by  the 
enemy.  On  the  conclusion  of  peace  he 
sailed  in  this  vessel  to  join  Commodore 
Shaw's  squadron  in  the  Mediterranean. 
The  cruise  had  the  usual  incidents  of 
this  service,  with  one  of  an  unpleasant 
nature  in  the  quarrel  or  exercise  of  a 
fit  of  passion  of  Perry  towards  an  offi- 
cer of  marines  named  Heath.  Unhap- 
pily, Perry,  who  was  provoked  by  his 
inefficiency,  and  what  he  thought  his 
disrespectful  conduct,  struck  the  infe- 
rior officer  a  blow.    Instead  of  being 


'  Life  and  Letters  of  Joseph  Story,  1  250-L 


OLIVER  HAZARD  PERRY. 


73 


settled  on  the  spot,  as  sucli  things 
sht>ukl  be,  it  ^Yas  snifered  to  remain 
and  rankle,  little  mitigated  by  a  court 
martial,  which  censured  both  parties, 
till  it  subsequently  ended  in  a  duel  in 
America.  It  was  fought  in  October, 
1818,  at  Weehawken,  the  ground  where 
the  life  of  Hamilton  was  sacrificed,  De- 
catur acting  as  Perry's  second.  Perry 
gave  the  meeting  as  a  compensation  to 
an  officer  whom  he  had  injured,  while 
he  forbore  to  return  his  antagonist's 
fire.  The  circumstances  were  then 
stated  on  the  field  by  Decatur,  and  the 
matter  ended. 

Perry  sailed  in  the  following  year,  as 
commodore  in  command  of  the  John 
Adams,  for  the  West  Indies,  bound  for 
the  state  of  Venezuela,  to  carry  on  an 
armed  negotiation  for  the  protection  of 
American  commerce  from  a2:2:ressions 
in  that  quarter.  Arriving  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Orinoco,  he  shifted  his  flag  to 
the  Nonsuch,  and  ascended  the  river  to 
the  capital,  Angostura,  where  he  re- 
mained twenty  days,  transacting  his 
business  in  the  height  of  the  yellow 
fever  season.  His  vessel  had  hardly 
left  the  river,  on  her  way  to  Trinidad, 
when  he  was  attacked.  For  nearly  a 
week  he  suffered  the  progress  of  the 
terrible  disease  on  board  the  small 
schooner,  under  a  tropical  sun,  when  he 
reached  the  station  wither  he  had  sent 
his  flagship,  the  Adams.  But  he 
reached  port  only  to  die  at  sea,  within 
a  mile  of  the  anchorao-e,  on  the  23d  of 
August,  1819,  when  he  had  just  com- 
pleted his  thirty-fourth  year.  Such 
and  so  early  was  the  fate  of  the  gallant 


Perry,  His  remains  were  interred 
from  the  John  Adams  at  Port  Spain, 
with  every  attention  by  the  English 
governor.  Subsequently  they  were 
brought  home  in  a  national  vessel  by 
order  of  Congress,  and  reinterred  at 
the  public  expense  in  the  cemetery  at 
Newport.  The  country  also  provided 
for  the  support  of  his  family.  If  ever 
America  produced  a  man  whom  the 
nation  delighted  to  honor,  it  was 
Perry. 

The  reason  is  not  far  to  seek.  We 
may  read  it  in  his  frank,  generous, 
handsome  countenance,  the  type  of  the 
manly  sailor — in  his  rare  valor,  his  re- 
sources in  difficulty,  his  chivalrous 
conduct — in  a  word,  his  humanity. 
The  public  seldom  makes  a  mistake  in 
the  bestowal  of  its  affections.  It  de- 
tects by  an  unerring  instinct  the  man 
of  heart,  of  true  bravery  and  worth, 
of  noble  impulses. 

Of  a  temper  sometimes  violent. 
Perry's  breast  was  filled  with  the 
gentlest  emotions.  He  had  the  sen- 
timent of  a  knight  of  the  olden 
time  for  woman,  and  a  proportionate 
purity,  courtesy,  and  manly  courage  in 
his  life.  He  was  an  ardent  lover  of  his 
friends,  and  his  native  State,  which 
justly  holds  him  in  beloved  veneration. 

In  person,  he  was  remarkable  in 
early  life,  as  we  have  noticed,  for  his 
beauty.  His  voice  is  spoken  of  as  pe- 
culiarly clear  and  agreeable.  The  ex- 
pression of  his  well-formed  mouth  was 
highly  pleasing.  Indeed  his  whole  ap- 
pearance betokened  health  and  happi- 
ness. 


JAMES  LAWRENCE. 


C  APT  Am  James  Lawkence  was  one 
of  that  band  of  cliivalrous  spirits 
wlio,  concentrating  all  their  life  in 
the  work,  with  insufficient  means,  in 
the  face  of  powerful  enemies,  raised 
our  infant  navy  in  an  instant,  as  it 
were,  to  an  honored  rank  in  the 
world.  The  force  and  energy  of  the 
free  national  development  were  felt  in 
the  spontaneous  movement  that  placed 
so  many  ardent,  courageous  spirits  at 
the  service  of  the  country.  These 
men,  Barry,  Barney,  Decatur,  Bain- 
bridge,  Perry,  Somers,  and  the  rest — 
the  list  is  a  lono-  one — were  volunteers 
in  the  cause,  fighting  more  for  glory 
than  for  pay.  Such  spirits  were  not  to 
be  hired  ;  theirs  was  no  mercenary  ser- 
vice. It  was  limited  by  no  prudential 
considerations.  They  went  forth  singly 
or  united,  the  commissioned  champions 
of  the  nation,  with  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  ready  to  sacrifice  themselves  in 
that  cause.  Punctilious  on  all  points 
of  honor,  they  sought  but  one  reward, 
victory.  There  was  but  one  thing  for 
them  to  do — to  conquer ;  and  failing 
that,  to  die.  Of  these  fiery-souled  he- 
roes, who  carried  their  country  in  their 
hearts,  the  men  of  courtesy  and  cou- 
rage, of  equal  humanity  and  bravery, 
true  sons  of  chivalry,  Law/ence  will 
ever  be  ranked  among  the  noblest. 

74 


He  was  born  October  1,  1781,  at 
Burlington,  on  the  banks  of  the  Dela- 
ware, in  New  Jersey.  His  father,  John 
Lawrence,  was  an  eminent  counsellor  at 
law  at  that  place.  The  death  of  his 
mother,  shortly  after  his  birth,  threw 
the  charge  of  the  child  upon  his  elder 
sisters,  by  whom  he  was  tenderly  cared 
for.  His  disposition  answered  to  this 
gentle  culture.  The  boy  was  dutiful 
and  affectionate,  amiable  in  disposition 
and  agreeable  in  manners.  Such  a  soil 
is  peculiarly  favorable  to  the  growth 
of  the  manly  virtues  where  nature  has 
assisted  by  her  generous  physical  gifts. 
The  bravest  men  have  often  been  the 
gentlest.  It  is  the  union  of  the  two 
conditions  which,  as  in  Sir  Philip  Sid- 
ney, makes  the  perfect  warrior. 

Young  Lawrence  early  showed  a 
liking  for  the  sea,  and  would  have  led 
a  life  on  the  waters  from  the  age  of 
twelve,  had  not  his  father  firmly  turned 
his  attention  to  books  and  education. 
It  was  his  intention  to  prepare  him  for 
his  own  profession,  the  law,  and  his 
desire  that  he  should  enjoy  the  usual 
preparatory  finished  education.  This 
was,  however,  prevented  by  his  pecu- 
niary misfortunes,  and  the  youth  passed 
from  his  primary  school  at  once  to  the 
law  office  of  his  brother,  John  Law- 
rence, then  residing  at  Woodbury.  He 


JAMES  LAWRENCE. 


75 


spent  two  years  in  tliis  situation,  be- 
tween thirteen  and  fifteen,  or  there- 
about, vainly  endeavoring  to  reconcile 
his  humors  to  the  onerous  duties  of  the 
unwelcome  position.    Washington  Ir- 
ving, in  the  account  of  the  life  of  Law- 
rence published  immediately  after  his 
lamented  death,  writes  with  fellow-feel- 
ing on  this  subject,  for  he  had  himself 
experienced  the  same  distastes.    "  The 
diy  study  of  statutes  and  reporters," 
says  he,  "the  technical  rubbish  and 
dull  routine  of  a  lawyer's  office,  were 
little  calculated  to  please  an  imagina- 
tion teeming  with  the  adventures,  the 
wonders  and  variety  of  the  seas."  He 
had  not  long,  at  any  rate,  to  endure 
the  privation.    The  death  of  his  father 
left  him  in  a  measure  free  to  follow  his 
own  inclinations,  and  his  brother,  per- 
ceiving his  strong  bent  for  the  sea, 
placed  him  under  the  care  of  a  Mr. 
Griscomb,  at  Burlington,  to  study  navi- 
gation, evidently  with  a  view  to  enter 
the  naval  service  of  the  country,  for  we 
find  him,  after  a  brief  three  months' 
instruction,  in  possession  of  a  midship- 
man's warrant.    This  was  dated  Sep- 
tember 4,  1798,  the  year  when  Congress 
seriously  directed  its  attention  to  the 
protection  of  our  commerce,  then  so 
wantonly  pillaged  by  the  two  great 
belligerents  of  Europe,  by  the  creation 
of  a  distinct  navy  department,  and  the 
enlargement  of  our  naval  force.  The 
movement  was  specially  directed  to  the 
French  aggressions  on  the  Atlantic  and 
in  the  Mediterranean.    Indeed,  in  all 
but  the  name,  war  existed  with  France. 
It  was  called  a  quasi  war. 

Lawrence's  first  service  was  a  cruise 
to  the  West  Indies,  in  the  Ganges,  a  | 


twenty-four  gun  ship,  then  commanded 
by  Captain  Tingey.    He  showed  in 
this  and  other  voyages  such  aptitude  for 
his  duties  that  he  was  made  an  actino- 
lieutenant  b}^  his  commander  previous 
to  his  receiving  his  commission  from 
Government.    In  1802  he  was  appoint- 
ed first  lieutenant  in  the  Enterprise,  of 
13  guns,  one  of  the  fleet  of  Commodore 
Morris,  sent  to  the  Mediterranean  to 
prosecute  the  Avar  with  Tripoli.  He  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself  in  that 
service,  by  his  adventures  with  Lieuten- 
ant David  Porter,  of  the  New  York,  in 
an  attack  in  open  day  on  certain  coasters 
or  feluccas  laden  with  wheat,  which 
took  refuge  in  Old  Tripoli,  where  they 
were  defended  by  a  land  force.  The 
attack  was  made  in  boats,  at  close 
quarters,  under  a  heavy  fire  of  the  ene- 
my.   The  object  does  not  appear  a 
very  great  one,  nor  was  it  one  likely  to 
secure  any  lasting  renown  except  to 
those  engaged  in  it ;  it  was  of  great 
peril  and  gallantry,  and  showed  a  spirit 
equal  to  any  undertaking.    There  is 
often  more  real  bravery  and  heroism 
exhibited  in  these  little  voluntary  en- 
terprises, both  inland  and  at  sea,  than 
in  the  greater  and  more  brilliant  ac- 
tions of  war,  where  much  is  left  to 
chance,  and  where  the  indecision  even 
of  cowards  may  be  forced  into  some 
display  in  the  general  excitement. 

Lawrence  had  a  second  ojDportunity 
of  distinguishing  himself  in  this  war 
in  an  action  likely  to  be  better  remem- 
bered by  the  public,  the  glorious  ad- 
venture of  Decatur  in  the  destruction 
of  the  wrecked  and  captured  Philadel- 
phia, in  the  harbor  of  Tripoli,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1804.    This  vessel,  it  will  be 


7(5 


JAMES  LAWRENCE. 


rememLered,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy  in  consequence  of  running  on  a 
shoal  at  the  entrance  of  the  harbor, 
when  she  was  exposed  to  a  furious  jfire 
of  the  enemy  without  opportunity  of 
defence,  and  was  surrendered  at  the 
last  moment  of  endurance  by  Bain- 
bridge  and  his  crew,  who  became  pris- 
oners.   To  recover  or  destroy  this  ves- 
sel, which  was  a  prize  greatly  valued 
by  the  Tripolitans,  and  well  protected 
by  their  forts  and  gunboats  in  the  har- 
bor, was  a  fascinating  service  for  the 
gallant  spirits  of  the  navy.  Decatur, 
then  in  command  of  the  Enterprise, 
among  others,  was  eager  for  the  em- 
ployment, and  it  was  intrusted  to  him 
by  Commodore  Preble.    His  crew  were 
placed  on  board  his  prize,  the  Mastico, 
an  old  French  gunboat  which  he  had 
captured  from  the  Tripolitans,  and 
every  man  was  allowed  to  volunteer,  a 
privilege  which  no  one  declined  to 
avail  himself  of    The  history  of  this 
adventure  will  be  found  in  the  life  of 
Decatur,  and  it  is  not  necessary  here 
to  repeat  it.    Lawrence  was  the  first 
lieutenant  of  that  officer,  in  this  bril- 
liant adventure,  and  shared  its  full 
dangers  and  glories — if  we  may  except 
the  paltry  return  proffered  him  by 
Congress  in  two  months'  additional 
pay,  which,  with  the  spirit  of  a  hero 
capable  of  taking  part  in  such  a  daring 
enterprise,  he  at  once  declined. 

Lawrence  was  also  engaged  in  the 
Enterprise  in  Preble's  bombardment 
of  Tripoli,  the  same  year.  He  returned 
in  the  winter  to  the  United  Stages, 
with  that  commodore,  in  the  John  Ad- 
ams. In  the  following  spring  of  1805, 
Lawrence  successfully  carried  across 


the  Atlantic  one  of  the  fleet  of  gun- 
boats, No.  6  of  which  he  was  comman- 
der, destined  for  service  in  the  Medi- 
ten-anean.    It  was   a    small  vessel, 
mounting  two  guns,  not  at  all  adapted 
for  ocean  navigation.    The  voyage  was 
looked  upon  as  a  marvel.    When  near 
the  Western  Islands,  Mr.  Cooper,  in 
his  "Naval  History,"  tells  he  "fell  in 
with  the  British  frigate  Lapwing,  28, 
Captain  Upton,  which  ran  for  him 
under  the  impression  that  the  gunboat 
was  some  wrecked  manners  on  a  raft, 
there  being  a  great  show  of  canvas 
and  apparently  no  hull."    Another  in- 
cident of  the  voyage,  indignantly  relat- 
ed by  Cooper,  is  characteristic  of  the 
times.    "  On  the  12  th  of  June,  No.  6 
fell  in  with  the  fleet  of  Admiral  Col- 
lingwood,  off  Cadiz,  and  while  Mr. 
Lawrence  was  on  board  one  of  the 
British  ships,  a  boat  was  sent  and  took 
three  men  out  of  No.  6,  under  the  pre- 
tence that  they  were  Englishmen.  On 
his  return  to  his  own  vessel,  Mr.  Law- 
rence hauled  down  his  ensign,  but  no 
notice  was  taken  of  the  proceeding  by 
the  British.    It  is  a  fitting  commentary 
on  this  transaction   (continues  Mr. 
Cooper),  that,  in  the  published  letters 
of  Lord  CoUingwood,  where  he  speaks 
of  the  impressment  of  Americans,  he 
says  that  England  would  not  submit 
to  such  an  aggression  for  an  hour." 

After  the  war  with  Tripoli  was  end- 
ed, Lawrence  returned  to  the  United 
States,  and  in  the  interval  when  the 
war  with  England,  after  the  affair  with 
the  Leopard  and  Chesapeake  was  daily 
becoming  more  imminent,  we  find  him, 
in  1808,  appointed  first  lieutenant  of  . 
the   Constitution.     About  the  same 


JAMES  L.^ 

time  lie  married  Miss  Montaudevert, 
the  daughter  of  a  respectable  merchant 
of  New  York.  He  was  on  duty  in  tl  e 
Vixen,  AYasp,  and  Argus;  and,  at  tha 
commencement  of  the  war  of  1812, 
Avas  promoted  to  the  command  of  tho 
Hornet.  While  in  this  last  vessel  ho 
sailed  with  Bainb ridge,  who  had  thd 
flag-ship  Constitution,  on  a  cruise  along 
the  coast  of  South  America,  and,  hav- 
ing occasion  to  look  in  at  the  port  of 
San  Salvador,  found  there  the  British 
sloop  of  war  Bonne  Citoyenne,  of  18 
guns,  ready  to  sail  for  England  with  a 
large  amount  of  specie.  Lawrence, 
whose  ship  mounted  an  equal  num])er 
of  guns,  was  exceedingly  anxious  to 
engage  mth  this  vessel.  He  sent  a 
challenge  to  its  commander.  Captain 
Green,  through  the  American  consul, 
inviting  him  to  "  come  out,"  and  pledg- 
ing his  honor  thnt  nr"thcr  the  Constitu- 
tion, nor  any  other  American  vessel, 
should  interfere,  which  Commodore 
Bainb  ridge  seconded  by  promising  to  be 
out  of  the  way,  or  at  least  non-combat- 
ant. The  English  captain  replied, 
through  the  consul  of  his  country,  not 
as  he  should  have  done,  by  objecting 
to  expose  his  ship  and  its  valuable 
cargo  to  a  hazard  not  provided  for  in 
his  orders,  but  by  doubting  whether 
Commodore  Bainbridge  would  be  able 
to  preserve  his  neutrality  under  the 
circumstances ;  he  was  of  opinion,  that 
officer  "  could  not  reserve  so  much  from 
the  paramount  duty  he  owes  to  his 
country,  as  to  become  an  inactive  spec- 
tator, and  see  a  ship  belonging  to  the 
very  squadron  under  his  orders,  fall 
into  the  hands  of  an  enemy  " — for  of  Ills 
power  to  secure  a  victory  he  professed 
u.— 10 


VWREXCE.  77 

not  to  entertain  the  least  doubt.  It 
was  an  unhappy  precedent  which  Law- 
rence thus  established,  injurious  to  the 
service  and  destined  to  act  fatally 
against  himself  in  the  end,  when  from 
the  challeno-er  he  became  the  challeno;ed. 

The  Constitution  meanwhile  sailed 
away,  to  close  the  year  with  her  bril- 
liant engagement  with  the  Java,  leav- 
ino;  th,e  Hornet  eno-affed  in  the  block 
ade  of  the  Bonne  Citoyenne.  Eigh 
teen  days  since  the  departure  of  the 
flag-ship  had  passed,  while  her  consort 
was  thus  engaged,  waiting  till  her  ex- 
pected prize  should  issue  from  the  har- 
bor, when  the  Hornet  was  robbed  of 
her  chances  of  victory  by  the  arrival 
of  his  majesty's  seventy -four,  the  Mon- 
tague. Escape  now  became  the  policy 
of  Lawrence,  who  luckily  managed  to 
get  from  the  harbor  in  safety,  and 
turned  his  course  to  the  northward, 
along  the  coast.  While  cruising  in 
this  direction,  after  capturing  a  small 
English  brig,  he  fell  in  with,  on  the 
24th  of  February,  1813,  off  the  mouth 
of  the  Demarara,  two  brigs  of  war, 
with  one  of  which,  the  Hornet,  Cap- 
tain Peake,  he  speedily  became  engaged. 
The  American  vessel  on  this  occasion 
had  the  advantage  in  armament ;  her 
force  being  18  thirty-two  pound  carron- 
ades,  and  two  long  twelves,  against  16 
twenty-four  pound  carronades  and  some 
smaller  guns,  wkile  there  was  little  dis- 
parity in  the  number  of  men,  the  Brit- 
ish vessel  numbering  one  hundred  and 
thirty,  her  adversary  reporting  one 
Hundred  and  thirty-five  fit  for  duty. 
The  action  was  fought  in  the  afternoon. 
In  the  words  of  Lawrence's  dispatch, 
which  gives  a  modest  and  forcible  ac- 


78 


JAMES  Lawrence. 


count  of  tlie  affair,  after  mentioning 
his  attempt  to  get  at  the  first  vessel  he 
discovered  at  anchor  off  the  bar,  he 
says — "  At  half  past  three,  p.m.,  I  dis- 
covered another  sail  on  my  weather 
quarter,  edging  down  for  us.  At  twen- 
ty minutes  past  four  she  hoisted  Eng- 
lish colors,  at  which  time  we  discovered 
her  to  be  a  large  man-of-war  brig ; 
beat  to  quarters  and  cleared  ship  for 
action ;  kept  close  by  the  wind,  in 
order,  if  possible,  to  get  the  weather- 
gage.  At  ten  minutes  past  five,  finding 
I  could  weather  the  enemy,  I  hoisted 
American  colors  and  tacked.  At  twen- 
ty minutes  past  five,  in  passing  each 
other,  exchanged  broadsides  within 
half  pistol  shot.  Observing  the  enemy 
in  the  act  of  wearing,  I  bore  up,  re- 
ceived his  starboard  broadside,  ran  him 
close  on  board  on  the  starboard  quar- 
ter, and  kept  up  such  a  heavy  and  well 
directed  fire,  that  in  less  than  fifteen 
minutes  he  surrendered,  being  literally 
cut  to  pieces,  and  hoisted  an  ensign, 
union  down,  from  his  fore  rigging,  as  a 
signal  of  distress." 

The  hull  of  the  Peacock  was  so  rid- 
dled that  she  sank,  while  every  exer- 
tion was  made  by  her  captors  to  save 
her  by  throwing  over  her  guns  and 
stopping  the  shot-holes.  Nine  of  her 
crew  went  down  with  her,  and  three 
of  the  Hornet's  men.  Captain  Peake 
was  found  dead  on  board.  The  loss 
of  the  Hornet  was  trifling  compared 
with  that  of  her  adversary ;  but  one 
man  killed  and  four  wounded  or  in- 
jured, one  of  whom  afterwards  died. 
This  superiority  is  attributed  by  Coop- 
er, who  sums  up  the  testimony,  "  to  the 
superior  gunnery  and  rapid  handling 


of  the  Hornet."  Everything  was  done 
in  the  first  place  to  save  the  lives  of 
the  prisoners  from  the  sinking  ship, 
and  in  the  second,  to  administer  to 
their  comforts.  As  the  action  was 
fought  near  the  shore,  the  vessel  set- 
tling in  only  five  and  a  half  fathoms 
water,  four  of  her  men  were  taken  off 
the  foretop  after  she  sunk.  The  sailors 
of  the  Hornet  supplied  their  captivea 
with  clothing  from  their  own  ward- 
robes, and  aided  them  by  a  subscrip- 
tion. Lawrence  carried  his  ship  in 
safety,  now  crowded  with  her  crew  and 
prisoners,  through  the  "West  Indies, 
bringing  her  on  the  19th  March  to 
Holmes'  Hole,  in  Martha's  Vineyard, 
whence  he  got  in  safety  through  Long 
Island  Sound  to  New  York.  There 
the  officers  of  the  Peacock  made  a  pub- 
lic acknowledgment  to  Lawrence  in 
the  newspapers,  of  the  kind  and  gen- 
erous treatment  they  had  received  from 
him.  "  So  much  was  done,"  said  they, 
"  to  alleviate  the  distressing  and  un- 
comfortable situation  in  which  we  were 
placed,  when  received  on  board  the 
sloop  you  command,  that  we  cannot 
better  express  our  feelings  than  by  say- 
ing '  we  ceased  to  consider  ourselves 
prisoners,'  and  everything  that  friend- 
ship could  dictate  'was  adopted  by 
you." 

This  victory  brought  Lawrence  a 
harvest  of  honors,  public  and  private. 
Before  he  sailed,  he  had  felt  called 
upon  to  protest  to  the  Secretary  of  the 
Navy  against  what  he  thought  an  in- 
justice done  him  in  the  promotion  of  a 
younger  ofiicer  to  a  captaincy,  while  he 
remained  simply  lieutenant  commander. 
He  now  found  that  the  promotion  had 


JAMES  LAWRENCE. 


79 


been  conferred  upon  liim  in  liis  absence, 
and  was  offered  the  command  of  tlie 
Constitution.    He  would   have  been 
pleased  to  sail  in  this  vessel,  but,  much 
to  his  annoj^ance,  immediately  after  re- 
ceiving the  appointment  was  ordered 
to  the  Chesapeake,  then  lying  at  Bos- 
ton,   The  latter  was  considered  an  un- 
lucky ship,  while  the  former  was  pecu- 
liarly fortunate.    No   ship  probably 
ever  raised  a  greater  crop  of  glory  for  a 
series  of  commanders  than  "  Old  Iron- 
sides."   No  one  has  so  ill  a  name  in 
the  service  as  the  Chesapeake.  Both 
Irving  and  Cooper  have  dwelt  upon 
this  unhappy  condition.    "  Lawrence," 
says  the  former,  "  was  prejudiced  against 
the  Chesapeake,  both  from  her  being 
considered  the  worst  ship  in  our  navy, 
and  from  having  been  in  a  manner  dis- 
graced in  the  affair  with  the  Leopard. 
This  last  circumstance  had  acquired 
her  the  character  of  an  unlucky  ship — 
the  worst  of  stigmas  among  sadors, 
who  are  devout  believers  in  good  and 
bad  luck ;  and  so  detrimental  was  it 
to  this  vessel,  that  it  has  been  found 
difficult   to   recruit    crews  for  her." 
Cooper  tells  us  in  addition  that  on  her 
return  to  Boston  from  her  last  cruise, 
the  Chesapeake  lost  a  topmast,  and 
several  men  who  were  aloft  at  the  time 
were  drowned.  "  Whatever  reason  may 
teach  men,"  he  adds,  "  on  such  subjects, 
facts  and  superstition  are  usually  found 
to  furnish  more  arguments  than  logic 
and  common  sense." 

Captain  Lawrence  took  the  command 
of  the  Chesapeake  at  Boston,  towards 
the  end  of  May,  1813.  The  Shannon 
frigate.  Captain  Broke,  a  superior  ves- 
sel of  the  British  navy,  had  been  for 


some  time  off  the  port,  and  her  com- 
mander, assured  of  his  sti'ength,  was 
desirous  of  a  conflict.    The  President 
and  Congress  had  escaped  the  Shannon 
and  her  consort,  and  the  former  was 
now  alone,  waiting  the  exit  of  the 
Chesapeake.    On  the  morning  of  the 
first  of  June,  this  vessel  appeared  off 
the  harbor,  signalling  the  Chesapeake, 
or  challenging  her  to  an  engagement. 
This  was  understood  by  Lawrence,  and 
was  no  doubt  the  intention  of  Captain 
Broke,  who  had  already  sent  a  chal- 
lenge in  a  letter  to  the  American  com- 
mander, which,  landed  at  Salem,  did 
not  reach  Boston  till  after  the  action. 
In  this  communication  he  stated  ex- 
actly the  force  of  his  vessel,  gave  assur- 
ance of  the  absence  of  any  interfering 
ships  of  the  squadron,  proposed  liberal 
accommodations  for  the  place  and  time 
of  meeting,  and  urged  the  invitation 
upon  the  "  personal  ambition  "  of  Law- 
rence.   "  You  will  feel  it  as  a  compli- 
ment," he  wrote,  "  if  I  say,  that  the 
result  of  our  meeting  may  iDe  the  most 
grateful  service  I  can  render  to  my 
country:  and  I  doubt  not  that  you, 
equally  confident  of  success,  will  feel 
convinced  that  it  is  only  by  triumphs 
in  equal  combats  that  your  little  navy 
can  now  hope  to  console  your  country 
for  the  loss  of  that  trade  it  can  no 
longer  protect." 

It  would  be  complimenting  the  valor 
of  Lawrence  at  the  expense  of  his  judg- 
ment, if  we  were  to  pronounce  him  ar 
dent  for  the  fight,  with  the  circum 
stances  under  which  it  took  place.  In 
fact,  as  Mr.  Cooper  states,  "  he  went 
into  the  engagement  with  strong  reluc- 
tance, on  account  of  the  peculiar  state 


80 


JAMES  LAWRENCE. 


of  liis  crew.    He  had  liimself  joined 
tlie  vessel  only  a  few  days  before ;  lier 
proper  first  lieutenant,  Mr.  O.  A.  Page, 
of  Virginia,  an  officer  of  experience, 
was  ill  on  shore,  and  died  soon  after  in 
Boston  ;  the  acting  first  lieutenant,  Mr. 
Augustus    Ludlow,   of   New  York, 
though  an  officer  of  merit,  was  a  very 
young  man,  and  was  in  an  entirely 
novel  situation,  and  there  was  but  one 
other  commissioned  sea  officer  in  the 
ship,  two  of  the  midshipmen  acting  as 
third  and  fourth  lieutena,nts,  and  now 
performing  this  duty  for  the  first  time. 
One,  if  not  both  of  these  young  gentle- 
men, had  also  just  joined  the  ship,  fol- 
lowing the  captain  from  the  Hornet. 
In  addition,  the  Chesapeake  had  an 
unusual  number  of  landsmen  in  her, 
and  of  mercenaries,  among  whom  was 
a  boatswain's  mate,  a  Portuguese,  who 
was  found  to  be  particularly  trouble- 
some."   There   was,   moreover,  some 
disaflfection  among  the  crew  from  the 
prize  money  of  the  last  cruise  not  hav- 
ing been  paid.    The  challenging  vessel, 
on  the  contrary,  carried  a  picked  crew, 
with  every  advantage  of  discipline  and 
equipment,  or  her  commander  would 
have  been  the  most  foolhardy  desper- 
ado in  the  world  to  provoke  an  engage- 
ment.   The  presumption,  of  course,  is, 
that  he  was  fully  prepared.    The  arma- 
ment of  the  two  vessels  was  about 
equal,  mounting  forty-nine  guns  each. 

At  noon,  then,  on  the  first  of  June, 
Lawrence  weighed  anchor  and  left  his 
station  in  the  bay  to  proceed  to  sea 
with  a  southwesterly  breeze.  The 
Shannon  was  in  sight,  and  the  two 
ships  stood  off  the  shore  till  about 
half  past  four  in  the  afternoon,  when 


the  Chesapeake  fired  a  gun,  which  was 
the  signal  for  a  series  of  manoeuvres, 
bringing  the  vessels  within  range  of 
each  other  about  a  quarter  before  six. 
The  Shannon  hove  to,  and  the  Chesa- 
peake bore  down  towards  her.    It  was 
Lawrence's  intention  to  bring  his  ship 
fairly  alongside  of  the  enemy  for  a  full 
discharge  of  his  battery.    He  conse- 
quently first  received  the  enemy's  fire 
from  the  cabin  guns,  as,  the  wind  hav- 
ing freshened,  his  ship  came  up  to  mea- 
sure her  length  with  her  antagonist, 
which  lay  with  her  head  to  the  south- 
east.   Then  the  Chesapeake  poured  in 
her  full  fii-e,   inflicting  considerable 
damage,  which  was  repeated  in  the 
successive  discharges  for  several  min- 
utes.   In  this  commencement  of  the 
action  it  was  considered  that  the  Shan- 
non received  most  injury,  particularly 
in  her  hull.    Unhappily  the  Chesa- 
peake in  turn  lost  the  command  of  her 
sails.    Her  fore-topsail  tie  and  jib  sheet 
were  shot  away;  the  spanker  brails 
were  loosened,  and  the  sail  blew  out. 
The  ship  was  consequently  brought  up 
into  the  wind,  when,  taken  aback,  she 
got  sternway  and  fell  aboard  of  the 
enemy,  with  her  mizzen  rigging  foul  of 
the  Shannon's  fore  chains.^    This  acci- 
dent exposed  the  Chesapeake  to  a  rak- 
ing fire,  which  swept  her  deck,  and,  as 
she  was  already  deprived  of  the  servi- 
ces of  the  officers  who  had  fallen  in 
the  first  discharges,  her  guns  in  turn 
were  deserted  by  the  men.  Captain 
Lawrence  had  already  received  a  wound 
in  the  leg,  his  first  lieutenant,  Ludlow, 
was  wounded,  the  sailing-master  was 


'  Cooper's  Naval  History,  II.  103. 


JAMES  LAWRENCE. 


81 


killed,  and  otlier  important  officers 
^vere  mortally  wounded.  As  the  sliips 
became  entangled,  Lam'ence  gave  or- 
ders to  summon  the  boarders,  who 
were  ready  below ;  but  unhappily  the 
negro,  whose  duty  it  was  to  call  them 
up  by  his  bugle,  was  too  much  fright- 
ened to  sound  a  note.  A  verbal  mes- 
sage was  sent,  and  before  it  could  be 
executed  Lawrence  was  a  second  time 
struck,  receiving  a  grapeshot  in  his 
body.  .  The  deck  was  thus  left  with 
no  officer  above  the  rank  of  a  midship- 
man. The  men  of  the  Shannon  now 
poured  in  and  gained  possession  of  the 
vessel.  As  Lawrence  was  borne  below, 
mortally  wounded,  his  dying  thoughts 
were  of  his  command,  uttering  his  order 
not  to  strike  the  flag  of  his  ship,  or 
some  e({uivalent  expression,  which  is 
handed  down  in  the  popular  phrase, 
"  Don't  give  up  the  ship  !"  He  lin- 
gered and  died  of  his  wounds  on  board 
on  the  sixth  of  June.  The  Chesapeake 
was  carried  into  Halifax,  and  there  the 
remains  of  her  gallant  captain  were 
borne  from  the  frigate  with  military 
honors,  with  every  mark  of  respect 
which  a  generous  enemy  could  pay  to 
a  fallen  hero.  His  remains  were  soon 
after  brouo-ht  to  Salem  under  a  flao;  of 
truce,  by  a  crew  of  masters  of  vessels 
who  sailed  for  the  purpose  from  that 
port.  The  funeral  honors  were  renewed 
and  a  eulogy  delivered  by  Judge  Story. 
Once  more  were  these  sad  rites  repeat- 
ed when  the  hero  was  finally  entombed 
at  New  York,  in  the  graveyard  at  Tri- 
nity, where  an  appropriate  monument, 
by  the  side  of  the  porch,  records  the 


life  and  death  of  the  youthful  hero  of 
the  Chesapeake. 

The  character  of  Lawrence  may  best 
be  summed  up  in  the  sailor's  eulogy 
of  a  kindred  spirit,  the  chivalrous  De- 
catur, "When  that  officer,  with  whom 
the  deceased  had  been  so  honorably 
associated  in  the  Mediterranean  before 
Tripoli,  was  asked,  "  whether  his  intrin- 
sic merit  as  an  officer  justified  the  en- 
thusiastic veneration  in  which  the 
nation  held  his  memory,"  he  is  said  to 
have  answered,  after  a  short  pause, 
'  Yes,  sir,  it  did ;  and  the  fellow  died 
'as  well  as  he  lived  ;  but  he  inspired  all 
about  him  with  ardor ;  he  always  saw 
the  best  thing  to  be  done ;  he  knew 
the  best  way  to  execute  it ;  and  had  no 
more  dodge  in  him  than  the  main- 
mast." ^ 

To  this  characteristic  eulogy  may  be 
added  the  impartial  estimate  of  Cooper  ■ 
"  James  Lawrence  was  a  man  of  noble 
stature  and  fine  personal  appearance. 
He  had  the  air  and  manner  of  a  gentle- 
manlike sailor,  and  was  much  beloved 
by  his  friends.  He  was  quick  and  im- 
petuous in  his  feelings,  and  sometimes 
manifested  it  on  the  quarter  deck  ;  but 
in  all  critical  situations  his  coolness 
was  remarkable.  He  was  a  perfect 
man-of-war's  man,  and  an  excellent 
quarter-deck  seaman,  handling  his  ves- 
sel not  only  skilfully,  but  with  all  the 
style  of  the  profession.  In  his  feelings 
and  sentiments  he  was  chivalrous,  gen 
erous  and  just." 


'  The  Naval  Monuments  of  the  Last  War,  etc.  p.  58. 
Boston,  1810. 


THOMAS  MACDONOUGH. 


Thomas  MACDOwoTJGn,  the  liero  of 
Lake  Champlain,  was  born  in  New- 
castle County,  Delaware,  on  the  twenty- 
third  of  December,  1783.  He  was 
the  son  of  Thomas  Macdonough,  an 
eminent  physician,  who  resided  on  a 
farm  at  the  place  just  mentioned,  and 
who,  on  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revo- 
lutionary war,  was  appointed  major  of 
a  regiment  raised  by  the  State.  He 
retii'ed  from  the  army,  and  after  peace 
was  declared,  held  the  office  of  a  judge. 
Two  of  his  sons  entered  the  navy. 
One,  named  James,  was  a  midshipman 
with  Commodore  Truxton  in  1799,  in 
the  victorious  action  of  the  Constella- 
tion vrith  the  French  frigate  I'lnsur- 
gente,  and  was  one  of  the  three  men 
wounded.  His  foot  was  shot  off,  and 
the  necessary  amputation  of  his  leg  in 
consequence  caused  his  retirement  from 
the  service. 

It  was  about  the  time  of  this  en- 
gagement that  his  brother  Thomas  en- 
tered the  service  as  a  midshipman. 
We  are  without  details  of  his  early 
apprenticeship,  but  first  hear  of  him 
on  active  duty  in  connection  with  the 
Tripolitan  war  in  1804,  when  he  was 
one  of  the  adventurous  picked  party 
in  the  ketch  with  Decatur  and  Law- 
rence, engaged  in  the  burning  of  the  Phi- 

ladeli)hia  in  the  harbor — an  event  al- 
es 


ready  fully  spoken  of  in  the  biogra- 
phical notices  of  the  chief  officers  just 
mentioned.  Macdonough  had  escaped 
being  taken  prisoner  in  that  ship, 
with  Bainbridge  and  his  crew,  in  con- 
sequence of  being  left  at  Gibraltar  in 
charge  of  the  Barbary  prize,  the  Me- 
shoba.  In  the  duty  at  the  destruction 
of  the  Philadelphia,  he  was  assigned  his 
post  on  board  the  attacking  vessel  in 
the  division  of  Lawi^ence. 

Macdonough  at  this  time  ranked  as 
a  midshipman ;  but  he  was  speedily 
promoted,  and  in  1806  we  hear  of  hinf'' 
as  first  lieutenant  of  the  Siren,  Captain 
John  Smith,  at  Gibraltar.  An  event 
of  that  time  and  place  shows  the  spirit 
of  the  youthful  officer  and  the  determi- 
nation thus  early  evinced  in  the  navy 
in  regard  to  a  system  of  aggression 
which  was  to  lose  none  of  its  attendant 
odium  by  further  practice.  We  allude 
to  the  right  of  search  claimed  by  Eng- 
lish officers,  which,  on  this  occasion  at 
least,  was  bravely  resisted.  The  cir- 
cumstances were  these.  In  the  absence 
of  Captain  Smith  on  shore  one  fore- 
noon, a  merchant  brig,  hoisting  the 
flag  of  the  United  States,  came  into 
port  and  anchored  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Siren.  Presently  a  boat  was 
seen  to  proceed  from  a  British  frigate 
and  bear  away  with  her  a  man  from 


THOMAS  MACDONOTTGH. 


83 


tlie   brig.      Macdouoiigli's  suspicions 
^ve^e   aroused,  aud   on   inquiry  con- 
firmed.   An  American  citizen  liad  been 
claimed  and  impressed.  On  the  instant, 
just  as  tlie  boat  witli  the  prisoner 
readied  tlie   Britisli  vessel,  Macdon- 
ougli  was  alongside  and  rescued  the 
captive,  bearing  liim  away  to  tlie  Siren. 
Tlie  next  incident,  which  immediately 
followed,  was  the  arrival  of  the  British 
captain,  loudly  demanding  from  the 
lieutenant  how  he  dared  to  take  a  man 
from  a  boat  of  his  majesty's  vessel. 
To  this  Macdonough  answered  that  he 
was  responsible  to  his  superior  officer, 
and  that  the  question  should  be  ad- 
dressed to  him.    The  Englishman  there- 
upon threatened  to  take  the  man  by 
force,  and  haul  the  frigate  alongside 
the  Siren,  which  carried  only  sixteen 
guns.     The  lieutenant  answered  that 
he  supposed  it  possible  for  him  to  sink 
the  vessel;  but  as  long  as  she  was 
afloat  the  man  would  not  be  surren- 
dered.   "  You  are  a  very  young  and  a 
very  indiscreet  young  man,"  said  the 
captain.    "  Suppose  I  had  been  in  the 
boat,  what  would  you  have  done?" 
"  I  would  have  taken  the  man  or  lost 
my  life."    "What,  sir,  would  you  at- 
tempt to  stop  me  if  I  were  now  to 
attempt  to  impress  men  from  that  brig?" 
"  I  would ;  and  to  convince  yourself  I 
would,  you  have  only  to  make  the  at- 
tempt."    The  Englishman  thereupon 
left  the  vessel,  and  when  he  was  seen 
making  in  the  direction  of  the  brig, 
Macdonough  was  in  pursuit  in  a  boat 
of  armed  men.    The  English  officer  re- 
tui-ned  to  his  vessel,  and  Captain  Smith, 
on  hearing  the  circumstances,  approved 
of  the  conduct  of  his  lieutenant. 


While  in  the  Mediterranean,  Macdo- 
nough had  another  and  still  more  criti- 
cal opportunity  of  exhibiting  his  per- 
sonal prowess  in  an  encounter  with 
some  desperadoes  at  Messina.  While 
the  American  fleet  lay  at  this  port,  he 
was  detained  one  night  on  shore  till  all 
the  ship's  boats  had  returned  to  the 
fleet.  He  then  hired  a  boat  to  carry 
him,  when  three,  instead  of  the  usual 
number,  two,  insisted  upon  accompany- 
ing him.  Suspecting  some  mischief,  he 
resisted,  when  all  three  attacked  him. 
With  his  back  to  a  door,  he  defended 
himself  against  their  united  effort, 
wounding  two  and  pursuing  the  third 
so  resolutely  that  he  took  refuge  on  the 
roof  of  the  barracks,  whence  he  was 
compelled  to  leap,  and  killed  himself 
in  the  fall.^ 

We  hear  little  of  Macdonough  after 
these  scenes  in  the  Mediterranean,  till 
his  eminent  service  on  Lake  Champlain 
in  the  brilliant  action  which  he  fought 
toward  the  close  of  the  strusfo^le  with 
England.  The  scene  of  this  engage- 
ment, in  a  region  consecrated  to  death 
and  victory  by  the  struggles  of  the  pre- 
vious great  wars  with  France,  in  the 
old  colonial  times,  and  the  succeeding 
Eevolutionary  conflict,  gives  to  the  bat- 
tle of  Plattsburg  a  peculiar  interest. 
In  defiance  of  fatal  precedents  and  the 
memorable  disaster  of  Burgoyne,  it  ap- 
peared to  be  the  intention  of  the  Brit- 
ish in  Canada  to  attempt  another  inva- 
sion of  the  heart  of  the  State  of  New 
York.  The  defensive  force  was  small, 
and  with  the  facility  of  approach  by 
the  lake,  offered  a  strong  temptation  to 

'  Life  of  Macdonough,  Analectio  Magazine  and  Nava/ 
Chronicle,  March,  1816. 


81 


THOMAS  MACDONOUGH. 


tlie  attaclcing  army.  On  tlie  first  of 
September,  1814,  Sir  George  Prevost 
crossed  the  frontier  from  Montreal  witli 
a  force  stated  at  twelve  thousand  men. 
He  advanced  towards  Plattsburg,  where 
General  Macomb  was  intrenched  on 
the  Saranac  with  some  fifteen  hundred 
eifective  defenders,  who  were  joined, 
as  the  conflict  became  imminent,  by  a 
considerable  number  of  ISTew  York  and 
Vermont  militiamen,  who  hastened  to 
the  spot.  The  plan  of  the  British 
commander  was  to  unite  a  land  and 
water  attack.  His  fleet  on  the  lake 
was  to  support  his  army  on  shore. 

The  naval  defences  of  Lake  Cham- 
plain  were  intrusted  to  Macdonough, 
They  consisted,  at  the  time  of  the  ac- 
tion, of  fourteen  vessels,  mounting  in 
all  eighty-six  guns,  and  manned  by 
about  eight  hundred  and  fifty  men,  all 
told.  Of  these  vessels,  four  only  were 
of  any  considerable  size,  the  rest  being 
galleys  or  gunboats.  The  largest  ves- 
sel, the  Saratoga,  commanded  by  Mac- 
donough himself,  mounted  eight  long 
twenty-four  pounders,  six  forty-two 
pound  carronades,  and  twelve  thirty- 
two  pound  carronades ;  the  schooner 
Eagle,  Captain  Henley,  twelve  twenty- 
three  pound  carronades,  and  eight 
long  eighteens ;  the  schooner  Ti- 
conderoga,  eight  long  twelve  pound- 
ers, four  long  eighteen  pounders,  and 
five  thirty-two  pound  carronades ;  the 
sloop  Preble,  seven  long  nine  pound- 
ers. Six  of  the  ten  galleys  were  armed 
with  one  long  twenty-four  pounder  and 
one  eighteen  pound  columbiad  each; 
the  remainder  carried  each  one  long 
twelve  pounder. 

The  British  force  outnumbered  the 


American  in  vessels  and  guns.  It  was 
commanded  by  Captain  Downie,  and 
consisted  of  his  flagship,  the  Confiance, 
mounting  thirty-seven  guns,  of  which 
no  less  than  thirty  on  the  gun  deck 
were  long  twenty-fours ;  the  brig  Lin- 
net, with  sixteen  long  twelves ;  two 
sloops,  the  Chub  and  Finch,  mounting 
each  eleven  guns,  mainly  eighteen 
pound  carronades,  and  thirteen  galleys, 
of  which  five  had  two  guns  each.  The 
whole  number  of  guns  of  the  British 
was  ninety-five,  with  a  force  of  about 
one  thousand  men.  Preparations  had 
been  made  by  both  parties  during  the 
previous  season,  and  two  of  the  vessels, 
the  Eagle  and  the  Confiance,  had  been 
launched  during  the  month  of  August. 
The  British  began  their  advance  from 
Isle  aux  Noix,  at  the  northern  end  of 
the  lake,  with  their  gunboats,  on  the 
third  of  September,  covering  the  land 
movement  of  the  troops ;  they  made  a 
station  and  rendezvous  at  Isle  au  Motte, 
and  brought  their  whole  force  off  Platts- 
burg on  the  eleventh,  the  day  of  the 
battle.  Macdonough  meanwhile  was 
reconnoitering  the  enemy  on  the  shore 
with  his  gunboats,  and  taking  his  posi- 
tion for  the  defence  of  the  town,  across 
Plattsburg  Bay.  This  is  a  piece  of 
water  running  north  and  south,  parallel 
with  the  lake  and  protected  from  it  by 
the  jutting  promontory  of  Cumberland 
Head.  South  of  this  piece  of  laud, 
forming  as  it  were  a  boundary  to  the 
bay  in  that  direction,  are  a  shoal  and  a 
small  island.  Resting  upon  the  latter, 
and  stretching  in  a  straight  line  fully 
within  the  promontory,  were  anchored 
the  vessels  of  Macdonough  in  the  fol- 
lowing order  from  the  north,  the  Eagle, 


THOMAS  MACDONOUQn. 


85 


Saratoga,  Ticonderoga,  and  Preble. 
On  an  inner  line  in  the  openings  be- 
tween tliese  were  ransred  tlie  ffnnboats 
Avliicli  were  not  anchored. 

The  first  appearance  of  the  enemy 
was  announced  at  eight  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  At  nine,  to  follow  the  dis- 
patch of  Macdonough,  which  presents 
in  few  words  the  clearest  account  of 
the  engagement,  he  "  anchored  in  a  line 
aliead,  at  about  three  hundred  yards' 
distance  from  my  line  ;  his  ship  oi:)posed 
to  the  Sarato2:a,  his  bria:  to  the  Ea^le, 
his  galleys  to  the  schooner,  sloop,  and 
a  division  of  our  galleys ;  one  of  his 
sloops  assisting  theii*  ship  and  brig,  the 
other  assisting  their  galleys :  our  re- 
maining galleys  mth  the  Saratoga  and 
Eagle.  In  this  situation  the  whole 
force  on  both  sides  became  eno-ao-ed, 
the  Saratoga  suffering  much  from  the 
heavy  fire  of  the  Confiance.  I  could 
perceive  at  the  same  time  that  our  fire 
was  very  destructive  to  her.  The  Ti- 
conderoga,  Lieut.  Com.  Cassin,  gallantly 
sustained  lier  full  share  of  the  action. 
At  half  past  ten  o'clock,  the  Eagle  not 
being  able  to  hrmg-  her  sruns  to  bear, 
cut  her  cable  and  anchored  in  a  more 
eligible  position,  between  my  ship  and 
the  Ticonderoga,  where  she  very  much 
annoyed  the  enemy,  but  unfortunately 
leaving  me  exposed  to  a  galling  fire 
from  the  enemy's  brig.  Our  guns  on 
the  starboard  side  being  nearly  all  dis- 
mounted or  unmanageable,  a  stern  an- 
chor was  let  go,  the  bow  cable  cut,  and 
the  ship  winded  with  a  fresh  broadside 
on  the  enemy's  ship,  which  soon  after 
sm-rendered.  Our  broadside  was  then 
sprung  to  bear  on  the  brig,  Avhich  sur- 
rendered in  fifteen  minutes  after.  The  ' 
u.— 11 


sloop  that  was  opposed  to  tlie  Eagle 
had  struck  some  time  before,  and  drift- 
ed down  the  line,  the  sloop  which  was 
with  their  galleys  having  struck  also. 
Three  of  their  galleys  are  said  to  be 
sunk  ;  the  others  pulled  off.  Our  gal- 
leys were  about  obeying  with  alacrity 
the  signal  to  follow  them,  when  all  the 
vessels  were  reported  to  me  to  b^  in  a 
sinking  state  ;  it  then  became  necessary 
to  annul  the  signal  to  the  galleys,  and 
order  their  men  to  the  pumps.  I  could 
only  look  at  the  enemy's  galleys  going 
off  in  a  shattered  condition,  for  there 
was  not  a  mast  in  either  squadron  that 
could  stand  to  make  sail  on ;  the  lower 
rigging,  being  nearly  all  shot  a^vay, 
hung  down  as  though  it  had  just  been 
placed  over  the  mastheads.  The  Sara- 
toga, which  was  twice  set  on  fire  by 
hot  shot  from  the  enemy's  ships,  had 
fifty-five  round  shot  in  her  hull,  the 
Confiance  one  hundred  and  five.  The 
enemy's  shot  passed  principally  just 
over  our  heads,  as  there  were  not  twen- 
ty whole  hammocks  in  the  nettings  at 
the  close  of  the  action,  which  lusted 
without  intermission  two  hours  and 
twenty  minutes." 

Such,  in  the  manly,  unaffected  lan- 
guage of  Macdonough,  was  the  battle 
of  Lake  Champlain — to  which  we  must 
add  the  cost  of  the  victory.  His  sec- 
ond in  command  in  the  Saratoga,  Lieu- 
tenant Peter  Gamble,  fell  at  his  post 
early  in  the  action.  Twenty-eight  were 
killed  and  twenty-nine  wounded  on 
board  this  ship.  In  the  other  vessels 
of  the  American  line,  the  unusually 
close  proportion  of  killed  and  wounded 
was  as  remarkable,  the  aggregate  being 
fifty-two  of  the  former  to  fifty-eight  of 


86 


THOMAS  MACDONOUGn. 


the  latter.  The  English  losses  were 
not  ascertained  Avitli  the  same  accuracy. 
The  number  of  killed  and  Avounded  on 
board  tlie  C<5nfiance  exceeded  one-third 
of  lier  crew  of  about  three  hundred 
men.  Her  commander,  Captain  Dow- 
nie,  was  killed  early  in  the  action, 
wlien  tke  vessel  was  gallantly  fouglit 
by  Captain  Pring,  wko  headed  the  list 
of  officers  captured. 

Great  praise  is  awarded  to  Macdo- 
nough  for  his  skilful  disposition  of 
his  ship  in  anchoring  not  only  with  a 
spring  on  his  cable,  but  with  kedges 
out,  ready  to  warp  the  ship  either  way, 
as  might  be  required— an  arrangement 
which  enabled  him  to  brino;  his  fresh 
broadside  to  bear  upon  his  antagonist 
and  secure  a  victory.  The  slaughter 
in  both  these  vessels  was  fearful.  The 
first  broadside  of  the  Confiance,  after 
securing  her  position,  killed  and  wound- 
ed some  forty  men  on  the  deck  of  the 
Saratoga.  The  certainty  of  the  fire, 
and  the  sure  effect  of  the  manoeuvres 
on  the  still  water  of  the  lake,  added 
greatly  to  the  perils  of  the  engagement, 
compared  with  the  naval  vicissitudes 
of  wind  and  wave  in  an  encounter  at 
sea.  One  incident  on  board  Macdo- 
nough's  vessel,  often  narrated,  pleas- 
antly relieves  the  horror  of  this  terrible 
strife.  In  clearing  her  decks  for  action, 
some  hen-coops  were  broken  up,  and 
the  poultry  suffered  to  run  at  large. 
Animated  by  the  noise  of  the  conflict, 
a  young  cock  fiew  upon  a  gun  slide, 
clapped  his  wings  and  crowed.  It  was 
accepted  as  a  good  omen  by  the  men, 
who  seconded  it  with  three  cheers.  It 
reads  like  a  story  of  some  ancient  con- 
flict of  Greek  or  Roman  in  the'  Medi- 


terranean, wlien  such  a  circumstance 
would  have  almost  decided  the  conflict. 

Many  stories  are  told  concerning 
the  deck  of  the  Saratoga  during  the 
eno-ajjement.    It  was  thouo;ht  at  one 

O    CD  O 

time  that  Macdonough  himself  was 
killed.  He  was  prostrate  for  several 
minutes,  lying  senseless  on  his  face. 
At  another  moment  he  was  throvvai 
covered  Avith  blood  between  two  of  the 
guns,  struck  by  the  head  of  one  of  his 
men.  This  is  narrated  by  Cooper,  who 
preserves  other  wonders  of  the  scene. 
"  Mr.  Brum,  the  master,  a  venerable  old 
seaman,  while  winding  the  ship,  had  a 
large  splinter  driven  so  near  his  body 
as  actually  to  strip  off  his  clothes.  For 
a  minute  he  Avas  thought  to  be  dead ; 
but,  on  gaining  his  feet,  he  made  an 
apron  of  his  pocket  handkerchief,  and 
coolly  Avent  to  Avork  again  Avith  the 
springs.  Mr.  Vallette,  acting  lieuten- 
ant, had  a  shot  bos,  on  which  he  Avas 
standing,  knocked  from  under  his  feet, 
and  he,  too,  Avas  once  knocked  doAvn 
by  the  head  of  a  seaman." 

Another  incident  is  Avell  Avorth  men- 
tioning as  illustrative  of  the  earnest 
character  of  Macdonough.  He  is  said, 
on  the  first  appearance  of  the  enemy 
off  Cumberland  Head,  to  have  knelt  on 
the  deck  of  his  ship  and  prayed  for 
aid.  This  accords  with  the  language 
of  his  first  brief  dispatch  after  the  bat- 
tle, addressed  to  the  Hon.  "William 
Jones,  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  dated 
on  board  the  Saratoga.  "  Sir,  the  Al- 
mighty has  been  pleased  to  grant  us  a 
signal  victory  on  Lake  Champlain,  in 
the  capture  of  one  frigate,  one  brig, 
and  tAvo  sloops  of  \A''ar  of  the  enemy. 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  etc." 


THOMAS  MACDONOIJGn. 


87 


Laconic  dispatches  were  the  order  of 
the  day  with  the  men  of  the  sword  in 
the  last  war. 

Of  the  effective  military  conduct  of 
the  American  commander  in  this  en- 
gagement we  may  willingly  accej)t  the 
sunmiary  of  Cooper,  referring  the  read- 
er, for  the  more  particular  detail  of  the 
nautical  incidents  of  the  day,  to  his 
Naval    History.     "Captain  Macdo- 
nough,"  he  writes,  "who  was  already 
very  favorably  known  to  the  service 
for  his  personal  intrepidity,  obtained  a 
vast  accession  of  reputation  by  the  re- 
sults of  this  day.    His  dispositions  for 
receiving  the  attack  were  highly  judi- 
cious and  seamanlike.    By  the  manner 
in  which  he  anchored  his  vessels,  with 
the  shoal  so  near  the  rear  of  his  line  as 
to  cover  that  extremity,  and  the  land 
of  Cumberland  Head  so  near  his  broad- 
side as  necessarily  to  bring  the  enemy 
Avithin  reach  of  his  short  guns,  he  com- 
pletely made  all  his  force  available. 
The  English  were  not  near  enough, 
perhaps,  to  give  to  carronades  their 
full  effect,  but  this  disadvantage  was 
unavoidable,  the  assailing  party  having, 
of  course,  some  choice  in  the  distance. 
All  that  could  be-  obtained,  under  the 
circumstances,  appears  to  have  been 
secured,  and  the  result  proved  the  wis- 
dom of  the  actual  arrangement.  The 
personal  deportment  of  Captain  Mac- 
donough,  in  this  engagement,  like  that 
of  Captain  Perry  in  the  battle  of  Lake 
Erie,  was  the  subject  of  general  admi- 
ration in  his  little  squadron.    His  cool- 
ness was  undisturbed  throughout  all 
the  trying  scenes  on  board  his  own 
ship,  and  although  lying  against  a  ves- 
sel of  double  the  force,  and  nearly  dou- 


ble the  tonnage  of  the  Saratoga,  he 
met  and  resisted  her  attack  with  a  con- 
stancy that  seemed  to  set  defeat  at  de 
fiance.  The  winding  of  the  Saratoga, 
under  such  circumstances,  exposed  as 
she  was  to  the  raking  broadsides  of  the 
Confiance  and  Linnet,  especially  the 
latter,  was  a  bold,  seamanlik^,  and 
masterly  measure,  that  required  unus- 
ual decision  and  fortitude  to  imagine 
and  execute.  Most  men  would  have 
believed  that,  without  a  single  gun  on 
the  side  engaged,  a  fourth  of  their  peo- 
ple cut  down,  and  their  ship  a  wreck, 
enough  injury  had  been  received  to 
justify  submission;  but  Captain  Mac- 
donough  found  the  means  to  secure  a 
victory  in  the  desperate  condition  of 
his  own  ship." 

The  result  of  this  action,  and  of  the 
corresponding  energy  on  land,  was  the 
speedy  delivery  of  the  region  from  the 
presence  of  Sir  George  Prevost  and  his 
forces. 

Congress  awarded  Macdonough  a 
gold  medal,  and  various  gifts  poured 
in  upon  him.  He  was  pronounced 
the  fellow  hero  of  Perry,  and  Cham- 
plain  was  placed  by  the  side  of  Erie. 
The  State  of  New  York  bestowed 
upon  him  a  grant  of  land  on  the 
bay  which  he  had  made  memorable 
by  his  bravery ;  and  Vermont,  the  city 
of  New  York,  and  Albany,  conferred 
grants  of  land.  He  retired  from  the 
war  not  only  honored  but  wealthy. 
We  hear  of  him  afterwards  in  command 
of  the  station  at  Portsmouth,  New 
Hampshire,  and  of  his  last  years  being 
passed  in  broken  health.  He  died  of 
a  lingering  consumption  on  the  tenth 
of  November,  1825. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


89 


erally  and  figuratively  thin-skinned 
boy,  of  a  mlful,  violent  temper,  withal 
sensitive  and  poetic,  lie  found  liis  way 
to  tliat  "  book  closet "  in  tlie  old  coun- 
tr}^  mansion  wliicli  so  often  figures  in 
tlie  history  of  men  of  genius.  There 
he  found  nutriment  which  thus  im- 
bibed in  youth  has  governed  the 
thoughts  and  actions  of  many  authors 
and  busy  men. 

Fondly  recurring  to  this  youthful 
trainino;  of  the  ima2:ination  more  than 
thirty  years  afterwards,  in  a  letter  to 
the  nephew  whose  education  he,  in 
tm-n,  had  directed,  he  assembles  again 
these  books  of  his  boyhood,  with 
their  shelf-fellows,  "  nature's  great '  ste- 
reotyi^es," — volumes  which  had  been 
the  companions  and  solace  of  his 
troubled  life.  Hear  the  reminiscent, 
and  be  stirred  at  these  echoing  names 
as  at  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  "  I  al- 
most envy  you,  Orlando.  I  would,  if 
it  were  not  Johnny  Hoole's  translation ; 
although  at  the  age  of  ten  I  devoured 
that  more  eagerly  than  gingerbread. 
Oh,  if  Milton  had  translated  it,  he 
might  tell  of — 

'  AJl  who  since,  baptized  or  infidel, 
Jousted  in  Aspramont  or  Montalban, 
Damasco,  or  Morocco,  or  Trebisond ; 
Or  whc  m  Biserta  sent  from  Afric  shore, 
Wlien  Charlemagne,  with  all  his  peerage,  fell 
By  Fontarabia.' 

Let  me  advise  you  to — 

'  Call  np  him,  who  left  half  told, 
The  story  of  Oambuscan  bold.' 

I  think  you  have  never  read  Chau- 
cer. Indeed,  I  have  sometimes  blamed 
myself  for  not  cultivating  your  imagin- 
ation, when  you  were  young.    It  is  a 


dangerous  quality,  however,  for  the 
possessor.  But  if  from  my  life  were  to 
be  taken  the  pleasure  derived  from  that 
faculty,  very  little  would  remain.  Shak- 
speare  and  Milton,  and  Chaucer  and 
Spenser,  and  Plutarch  and  the  Arabian 
Nights  Entertainments,  and  Don  Quix- 
ote and  Gil  Bias,  and  Tom  Jones  and 
Gulliver,  and  Bobinson  Crusoe  and 
'  the  tale  of  Troy  divine,'  have  made 
up  more  than  half  of  my  worldly  en- 
joyment. To  these  ought  to  be  added 
Ovid's  '  Metamorphoses,'  Ariosto,  Dry- 
den,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Southern, 
Otway,  Congreve,  Pope's  'Rape'  and 
'  Eloisa,'  Addison,  Young,  Thomson, 
Gay,  Goldsmith,  Gray,  Collins,  Sheri- 
dan, Cowper,  Byron,  ^sop,  La  Fon- 
taine, Voltaire  ('Charles  XII.,' '  Moham- 
med,' and  '  Zaire  '),  Rousseau  ('  Julie '), 
Schiller,  Madame  de  Stael — but  above 
all,  Burke. 

"  One  of  the  first  books  I  ever  read 
was  Voltaire's  '  Charles  XII.'  About 
the  same  time,  1Y80,  I  read  the  '  Spec- 
tator,' and  used  to  steal  away  to  the 
closet  containing  them.  The  letters 
from  his  correspondents  were  my  favor- 
ites. I  read  '  Humphrey  Clinker,'  also, 
that  is,  Win's  and  Tabby's  letters,  with 
great  delight,  for  I  could  spell  at  that 
age  pretty  correctly.  '  Reynard  the 
Fox,'  came  next,  I  thin^,  tnen  'Tales 
of  the  Genii,'  and  '  Arabian  Nights.' 
This  last  and  Shakspeare  were  my 
idols.  I  had  read  them  with  Don 
Quixote,  Gil  Bias,  Quintus  Curtius, 
Plutarch,  Pope's  Homer,  Robinson  Cru- 
soe, Gulliver,  Tom  Jones,  Orlando  Fu- 
rioso,  and  Thomson's  Seasons,  before  I 
was  eleven  years  of  age ;  also.  Gold- 
smith's Roman  History,  2  vols.  8vo., 


90 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


and  an  old  history  of  Braddock's  war. 
When  not  eight  years  old,  I  used  to 
sing  an  old  ballad  of  his  defeat : 

'On  the  sixth  day  of  July,  in  the  year  sixty-five, 
At  two  in  tlie  evening,  did  our  forces  arrive ; 
When  tlie  French  and  the  Indians  in  ambush 
did  lay, 

And  there  was  great  slaughter  of  our  forces  that 
day.'  " 

At  about  eleven,  1784-5,  Percy's 
Reliques  and  Chaucer  became  great 
favorites,  and  Chatterton  and  Row- 
ley.^ 

The  youth  of  Randolph,  spite  of 
these  solaces  of  the  imao-ination,  was 
not — could  hardly  have  been  happy, 
lie  encountered  many  miseries,  some  of 
which,  being  external  to  a  man,  a 
healthy  temperament,  with  the  exercise 
of  that  fortitude  which  all  are  called 
to  practise,  might  have  thrown  off  or 
endm"ed  with  resignation.  But  the 
difficulty  with  Randolph  was,  that  his 
was  not  a  healthy  temperament.  How- 
ever he  may  have  struggled  for  the 
sound  mind  through  the  defects  of  an 
irregular  education,  and  he  certainly 
did  struggle,  its  incentive  and  instru- 
ment, the  sound  body,  was  wanting. 
His  frame  was  always  delicate.  In 
youth  he  was  undergrown,  thin  and 
awkward.  It  is  said  that  he  grew  a 
head  taller  after  he  was  twenty-three. 
The  progress  of  his  life  is  the  progress 
of  disease.  Within  this  morbid  anatomy 
was  lodged  a  quick,  fiery  spirit, — as  he 
himself  expressed  it,  "  a  spice  of  the 
devil  in  my  temper."  A  body  and 
mind  of  these  dispositions  would  have 
chafed  under  the  most  felicitous  cir- 


'  Letters  of  John  Randolph  to  a  young  Relative,  190-1. 


cumstances.  They  make  their  own 
troubles  in  the  world,  changing  the 
sunlight  of  heaven  to  darkness.  But 
there  were  real  shadows  cast  upon  the 
boyhood  and  youth  of  Randolph.  The 
first  breaking  up  of  the  household 
came  from  the  British,  when  the  famil}- 
w^as  driven  in  hot  haste  from  its  plea- 
sant Matoax  by  the  invasion  of  the 
traitor  Arnold.  There  were  other  es- 
tates in  the  family,  however,  and  Bi- 
zarre, for  many  years  the  residence  of 
Randolph,  opened  its  friendly  arms  to 
the  young  mother  and  her  babe  of  a 
few  days  old.  Ruthless  scenes  of  war, 
these  !  The  head  of  the  family,  the  ex- 
cellent St.  George  Tucker,  was  on  duty 
in  the  field  leading  the  county  militia. 
He  served  afterwards  with  Greene  and 
Lafayette.  The  home  education  was 
fatally  interrupted,  but  the  school  of 
Walker  Maury  offered  its  aid  and  was 
accepted.  In  that  seminary  in  Orange 
County,  and  afterwards  in  a  grammar 
school  in  alliance  with  William  and 
Mary,  Randolph  learnt  the  elements  of 
the  Greek  and  Latin  languages,  in  both 
of  which  doubtless  he  would  have  be- 
come something  of  an  adept  had  he  not 
been  checked  by  delicate  health,  and 
called  away  to  a  visit  with  his  parents 
to  Bermuda.  He  exchanged  his  copy 
of  Sallust,  as  a  memorial  of  friendship 
for  that  belonging  to  his  life-long 
friend,  Tazewell,  and  writing  on  its 
blank  page  the  line  of  Yirgil :  "  Coelum 
non  animum  mutant,  qui  trans  mare 
currunt,"  the  boy  of  eleven  took  his 
departure  from  Williamsburg.  After 
his  return  from  Bermuda,  he  passed  a 
short  time  at  Princeton  College,  in 
New  Jersey.    He  recalled  afterwards 


JOTTX  R.' 


ANDOLPTT. 


his  exercises  in  oratory  in  tliut  institu- 
tion, lie  would  not  speak,  if  lie  could 
avoid  it,  lie  says  in  a  letter,  and  tlien 
only,  without  gesture,  the  shortest 
piece  he  had  in  his  memory.  Yet  he 
talks  of  his  conscious  superiority  in  de- 
livery and  elocution,  and  heaps  con- 
tempt upon  the  honors  which  were 
not  awarded  to  him  !  The  inconsist- 
ency shows  Kandolph  at  that  time  to 
have  had  somethino;  of  his  genius  for 
oratory  struggling  within  him. 

From  Princeton  he  was  summoned 
home  by  the  death  of  his  mother,  the 
one  being  whose  prayers  and  counsel 
and  nameless  influences  mia'ht  have 
soothed  his  fretful  spirit.  The  grave- 
yard at  Matoax  gathered  another  stone, 
which  lay  heavily  upon  his  heart. 
These  old  griefs  always  lived  within 
him.  His  imagination,  stimulated  by 
a  life  of  suffering,  never  allowed  him 
to  forget  a  past  sorrow.  In  the  dark 
houi's  of  his  wounded  spirit,  the  pure 
image  of  that  "  only  one  human  being 
Avho  ever  knew  me,"  rose  before  him. 
It  was  thus  he  -svrote  after  the  duel 
with  Henry  Clay.  "  Earely,"  adds  his 
biographer,  "  did "  he  come  to  Peters- 
burg or  its  vicinity,  that  he  did  not 
visit  old  Matoax  in  its  wasted  solitude, 
and  shed  tears  over  the  grave  of  those 
honored  parents,  by  whose  side  it  was 
the  last  wish  of  his  heart  to  be  bur- 
ied." ^ 

A  few  months  after  this  event,  in 
June,  1788,  he  went,  full  of  animation 
in  the  cause  of  literature,  to  Columbia 
College  at  New  York.  There  he  be- 
came attached  to  Cochrane,  the  "  hu- 


■  Garlaad,  I.  25. 


manity  professor,"  of  whom  he  took 
lessons  in  private,  paying  the  fees  Out 
of  his  pocket  mone}".  "  We  read  De- 
mosthenes together,  and  I  used  to  cry 
for  indignation  at  the  success  of  Philip's 
arts  and  arms  over  the  liberties  of 
Greece."  The  teacher  left  for  Nova 
Scotia  under  some  provocation,  and  the 
pupil,  with  no  personal  influence  to 
excite  his  powers,  suffered  his  studies 
to  languish.  There  were  lessons  at 
New  York,  however,  in  those  days,  be- 
side those  within  the  colle2;e  walls.  It 
was  the  time  of  the  inauguration  of 
Washington,  and  the  assembly  of  the 
first  Congress  under  the  Constitution. 
Both  these  scenes  were  witnessed  by 
Randolph.  They  fix  thus  early,  for 
his  school  education  Avas  now  ended, 
the  date  of  his  political  career.  As 
Patrick  Henry  and  Richard  Henry  Lee 
were  the  children  of  the  Revolution, 
the  mind  of  Randolph  was  developed 
apace  with  the  struggles  of  the  Consti- 
tution. His  family  alliances  sharpened 
his  perceptions  of  the  strife.  Several 
of  his  reltitives  were  in  the  House  of 
Representatives ;  he  watched  the  de- 
bates eagerly,  and  when  the  Congress 
met  at  its  next  session  in  Philadelphia, 
he  took  up  his  residence  there  with  his 
kinsman,  Edmund  Randolph,  then  one 
of  the  Cabinet.  The  master  spirit, 
Jefferson,  was  also  his  relative.  His 
biographer  traces  these  influences  and 
sketches  the  national  discussions  which 
agitated  the  public.  They  may  be 
summed  up  in  the  fears  of  the  new 
Constitution,  and  the  efforts  of  French 
propagandism.  For  the  most  part, 
those  who  rejected  the  Constitution 
adopted    the    tricolor.     The  States 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


Rights  men  were  thorouglily  demo- 
cratic. Randolpli  made  a  fusion  of  the 
two  elements,  and  puzzled  the  world 
with  his  aristocratic  Eepublicanism. 
As  a  Virginian,  he  belonged  to  the 
Anti-Federalists ;  as  a  man  of  the  na- 
tion, he  drew  his  political  philosoj^hy 
from  that  nursing-father,  Edmund 
Burke,  with  an  unction  which  was  not 
surpassed  by  the  devotion  of  Fisher 
Ames  himself. 

New  trials  and  personal  discipline 
were  to  intervene  before  Randolph 
committed  himself  to  his  long  public 
career.  He  ha,d  continued  to  reside  in 
Philadelphia,  bearing  his  part  in  the 
friendship  and  society  of  the  place,  un- 
der the  roof  of  his  relative,  Edmund 
Randolph,  till  he  became  of  age,  when 
he  returned  to  Virginia  and  entered  on 
the  management  of  his  landed  estates, 
which,  in  common  with  much  of  the 
property  of  the  State,  were  greatly  em- 
barrassed by  foreign  debt.  It  was  a 
custom  of  the  planters  in  the  old  colo- 
ny times  to  mortgage  their  lands  to  Brit- 
ish creditors,  for  advances  on  the  crops. 
This  became  a  gradually  increasing  in- 
heritance of  debt  which  the  sponge  of 
the  Revolution  did  not  wipe  out, 
though  considerable  opposition  was 
made  to  its  payment  in  Virginia,  en- 
forced by  the  eloquence  of  Patrick 
Henry,  who  had  been  retained  to  plead 
against  the  foreign  claimants.  The 
Randolphs  had  to  provide  for  their 
full  share  of  the  wasteful  extravagance 
of  their  forefathers.  The  estates  were 
now  divided  between  the  elder  brother, 
Richard,  and  John  Randolph  of  Roan- 
oke, as  he  was  now  fully  entitled  to 
call  himself.    The  latter  resided  with 


Richard,  the  head  of  the  family  at  Bi- 
zarre. On  his  return  from  a  visit  to 
Georgia  in  1796,  he  was  met  by  the 
intelligence  of  his  brother's  death,  ano- 
ther seed  of  anguish  sown  in  the  well- 
watered  plot  of  his  bitter  recollections. 
Sorrows  such  as  these,  indeed,  are  the 
common  lot  of  humanity :  they .  are 
borne  by  delicate  women,  by  sensitive 
youth,  and  enfeebled  age  :  we  have  all 
such  "  gatherings  in  the  heavens  ;"  ^  it  is 
the  story  of  this  huge  volume — for 
what  is  biography  but  the  story  of 
death,  as  of  life  ?  What  are  our  books 
and  libraries  but  words  from  splendid 
cenotaphs  of  the  departed  ?  The  wea- 
pon indeed  is  old,  but  each  stroke  is 
new ;  the  blood  must  flow — the  tears 
must  follow.  The  loss  to  the  wayward, 
sensitive  Randolph,  of  such  a  brother, 
in  such  a  home,  was  great.  Richard 
appears  to  have  been  a  model  of  chiv- 
alric  character,  the  very  being  to  pro- 
tect the  genius  and  secure  the  allegi- 
ance of  his  wayward  brother.  If  to 
this  loss  we  are  to  add  the  story  of  an 
unhappy  attachment,  darkly  hinted  at 
by  his  biographer,  to  a  lady  who  rejected 
his  passionate  attentions,  we  may  see 
another  staff  removed  which  might 
have  propped  this  naked  life,  at  once 
so  dependent  and  so  haughty.  Other 
men,  again,  have  endured  these  things 
and  more,  and  grown  strong;  but 
theirs  has  not  been  the  angry  spirit  of 
Byron,  cramped  in  the  body  of  Pope. 

The  reader  may  desire  some  particu- 
lars of  this  courtship.  A  recent  feeling 
tribute  to  Randolph,  by  an  eloquent 


'  The  touching  expression  of  the  historian,  Hallam,  in 
his  old  age,  bereft  of  his  accomplished  sons. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


93 


writer  of  Virginia/  supplies  us  witli  a 
sketch  of  tlie  scene.  Tlie  incidents 
must  be  left  to  the  hearts  of  lovers. 

"  Yesterday,"  says  Mr.  Cooke,  "  I  vis- 
ited an  old  ante-Revolutionary  mansion, 
■where  many  hours  of  his  early  man- 
hood were  passed — where  he  paid  his 
addresses  to  the  lady  of  whom  he  said, 
'  I  loved  her  more  than  my  own  soul, 
or  Him  that  created  it,'  and  whom  he 
was  thinking  of  long,  weary  years  after- 
ward, when  he  wrote  to  his  friend,  '  I, 
too,  am  wretched !'  The  old  mansion 
seemed  to  illustrate  and  make  real 
again,  so  to  speak,  the  tragedy  which 
had  been  j^layed  there  at  the  end  of 
the  last  century.  All  around  was  sug- 
gestive of  the  past,  and  seemed  as  it 
were  to  shut  out  and  do  away  with 
the  present.  The  old  wainscoting  ex- 
tended as  in  ancient  Eno-lish  castles 
and  country-houses,  from  the  narrow 
mantelpiece  to  the  ceiling,  around  which 
ran  a  heavy  carved  cornice  of  age-em- 
browned timber.  The  mantelpiece  it- 
self was  decorated  with  ponderous 
Gothic  ornaments.  In  the  wide  fire- 
place the  tall  old  andirons,  supporting 
the  cheerfully  blazing  logs,  rose  up  like 
ghosts.  The  windows,  tall  and  narrow, 
were  scratched  over  with  names — the 
names  of  ladies  fair,  gone  long  ago  into 
the  dust  from  which  they  came ;  and 
among  these   names   I  read  '  Maria 

W  ,'  one  whom   we  may  call, 

without  exaggeration,  '  the  fate  of 
John  Randolph.' 

"  Her  portrait  was  on  the  wall,  in 
its  old  oaken  frame — ^the  canvas  cracked 

'Mr.  John  Esten  Cooke,  in  a  paper  on  the  "Early 
Days  of  Randolph,"  one  of  a  series  on  the  illustrious  men 
of  Virginia,  contributed  to  "The  Century"  newspaper. 

n.— 12 


and  falling  away — l)ut  the  face  looking 
out  upon  you  still,  with  its  lui'king 
smile,  and  large  dark  eyes  as  it  looked 
long  ago — the  real  face  of  a  living  wo- 
man. There  were  two  portraits  of  the 
lady.  The  one  to  which  I  have  re- 
ferred, represents  her  child  almost, 
with  a  profusion  of  brown  hair,  cut 
short  upon  the  forehead,  but  falling 
in  long  locks  upon  the  bare,  white 
shoulders  and  the  bosom.  Around  the 
young  lady's  figure  is  clasped  a  full 
lace  dress,  the  huge  plaits  reposing  on 
her  neck.  The  pretty  face  looks  out 
from  the  frame  of  curls,  with  the  calm, 
collected  smile  of  which  I  have  spoken ; 
you  see  in  it  the  germ,  as  it  Avere,  of 
the  opposite  portrait.  The  same  per- 
son is  represented  therein,  as  she  ap- 
peared in  middle  age — indeed,  just  be- 
fore her  death.  A  lace  veil  is  thrown 
around  the  intelligent  features  of  the 
beautiful  woman,  and  is  gathered  care- 
lessly in  the  Spanish  fashion,  with  the 
white  right  hand.  The  portrait  was 
unfinished  when  she  died  ;  the  veil  was 
thus  thrown  by  the  painter  across  the 
forehead  just  above  the  eyes,  after  vain 
attempts  to  accurately  recall  the  upper 
portion  of  the  countenance." 

The  whole  inventory — the  schedule 
of  this  bankrupt  property  of  the  heart : 
two  portraits  at  the  beginning  and  end 
of  life,  a  diamond  tracing  on  a  pane  of 
glass,  a  piece  of  wainscoting,  an  old 
doorstep,  from  which  the  lover  depart- 
ed, leaving  behind  him  what  little  re- 
mained of  youth  and  happiness. 

In  despair,  the  proud,  melancholy, 
wounded  lord  of  encumbered  acres,  in 
a  fit  of  caprice  almost,  offered  himself 
to  the  people  as  their  representative  in 


94 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


Coiit^ress,  It  was  the  time  and  place, 
the  Charlotte  Court  House,  which  wit- 
nessed the  last  great  speech  of  Patrick 
Henry.  John  Randolph  followed  him 
on  the  stump — impar  congressus  Advil- 
li^  it  may  well  have  appeared  to  the 
bystanders.  Randolph,  however,  had 
the  popular  side,  though  he  spoke  in 
opposition  to  Henry,  who,  it  will  be 
remembered,  on  that  occasion  publicly 
proclaimed  his  adhesion  to  Federalism 
— even  to  the  repressive  measures,  the 
alien  and  sedition  laws  of  John  Adams. 

Randolph  took  his  seat  in  the  Con- 
gress of  1800.  His  first  speech  was  on 
a  Republican  motion  for  the  reduction 
of  the  army,  to  which  he  applied  the 
term  mercenaries,  in  contradistinction 
to  the  voluntary  militia  force.  In  the 
evening  certain  military  officers  made 
his  remarks  a  means  of  annoyance  at 
the  theatre.  He  considered  it  an  in- 
vasion of  privilege,  and  addressed  the 
President  upon  the  subject.  By  the 
President  it  was  sent  to  the  House ;  a 
committee  was  appointed,  resolutions 
were  reported,  debated  and  thrown 
out.  It  was  certainly  rather  a  peculiar 
introduction  to  the  public ;  but  in  the 
heat  of  politics,  anything  which  marked 
a  member's  position  was  of  consequence, 
and  John  Randolph  became  an  object 
of  attention. 

For  thirty  years  he  was  regularly  re- 
turned to  the  councils  of  the  nation. 
He  was  all  this  while,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  two  years  in  the  Senate,  in  the 
House  of  Representatives,  Washing- 
ton knew  him  as  well  as  she  learnt  to 
know  Clay,  Webster,  Calhoun  or  Ben- 
ton. For  this  long  period  he  was  a 
celebrity  in  Congress.    His  personal 


eccentricities,  his  lank  appearance,  his 
voice  shrieking  in  its  higher  tones, 
his  withering  sarcasm,  his  splenetic 
moods,  the  purity  and  elegance  of  his 
phraseology,  the  independence  and 
honesty  of  his  sentiments,  all  united 
in  engaging  the  public  attention,  which 
is  always  attracted  by  strong  peculiar- 
ities and  deeply  •  affected  by  manly 
convictions ;  which  is  irresistibly  en- 
ticed by  so  remarkable  a  union.  There 
was  not  a  meeting  or  an  assembly  of 
half  a  dozen  persons  of  intelligence  in 
the  country  through  his  active  period, 
which  did  not  discuss  the  last  sharp 
saying  or  denunciation  of  John  Ran- 
dolph. He  prided  himself  on  his  aris- 
tocracy ;  but  it  was  not  an  aristocracy 
of  luxury  and  expense,  of  show  and 
vanity,  for  which  he  had  a  contempt 
great  as  his  admiration  for  ancestral 
acres ; — the  brightest  gem  he  saw  in 
her  coronet  was  truth.  For  this  he 
valued  wealth  and  station,  inculcated 
economy,  and  treated  debt  as  a  dis- 
grace : — it  was  an  invasion  of  a  man's 
pride  and  independence. 

During  his  thirty  years  at  Washing 
ton  he  represented  the  old  States 
Rights  party  of  Virginia.  He  witnessed 
the  election  of  Jefferson  and  bore  an 
active  part  in  that  of  Jackson,  who  had 
no  brighter,  more  subtle  partisan  than 
Randolph,  when  in  one  of  his  most 
brilliant  speeches  he  turned  the  very 
deficiencies  of  the  old  chieftain  to  his 
honor.  The  late  Senator  Benton,  in 
his  "  Thirty  Years'  View,"  tells  us  that 
"  during  the  first  six  years  of  Jefferson's 
administration,  Randolph  was  the  Mu- 
rat  of  his  party,  brilliant  in  the  charge, 
and  always  ready  for  it ;  and  valued  in 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


95 


the  council  as  well  as  in  the  field.  For 
more  than  thirty  years  he  was  the  poli- 
tical meteor  of  Congfress,  blazino^  with 
undiminished  s})lendor  diu'ing  the  whole 
time,  and  often  appearing  as  the  '  plan- 
etary plague,'  which  shed,  not  war  and 
pestilence  on  nations,  but  agony  and 
fear  on  members.  His  sarcasm  was 
keen,  refined,  withering— with  a  great 
tendency  to  indulge  in  it ;  but,  as  he 
believed,  as  a  la^vful  parliamentary 
weapon  to  effect  some  desirable  pur- 
pose. Pretension,  meanness  and  dema- 
gogism  were  the  frequent  subjects  of 
the  excercise  of  his  talent ;  and,  when 
confined  to  them,  he  was  the  benefactor 
of  the  House.  Wit  and  genius,  all  al- 
lowed him ;  sagacity  was  a  quality  of 
his  mind,  visible  to  all  observers — and 
which  gave  him  an  intuitive  insight 
into  the  effect  of  measures."  He  long 
held  the  responsible  post  of  chairman 
of  the  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means. 
Among  the  leading  questions  with 
which  he  was  identified  were  the  claims 
growing  out  of  the  swindling  Yazoo 
land  speculation  of  Georgia,  of  which 
he  was  a  resolute  opponent ;  the  mea- 
sures leading  to  the  war  of  1812,  which 
he  constantly  questioned  ;  the  election 
of  Madison,  when  he  was  still  in  oppo- 
sition; the  compromise  of  the  Missouri 
bill,  which  he  denounced ;  the  procla- 
mation of  Jackson,  which  he  resented 
with  acrimony.  In  the  debates,  grow- 
ing out  of  these  questions,  he  left  his 
record  in  many  a  j)ungent  remark. 
"Masterly  inactivity,"  which  he  com- 
mended to  the  General  Government 
in  policy  afi'ecting  the  States,  and 
"dough  faces,"  a  term  which  he  ap- 
plied in  the  course  of  the  Missouri 


debate,  are  phrases  which  will  Iouq- 
live  in  our  political  vocabulary.  It 
was  a  characteristic  of  his  speeches  to 
seize  eagerly  upon  his  conclusion,  hud- 
dling argument  upon  argument  mixed 
with  Latin  quotation  and  familiar  al- 
lusion. In  apology  for  these  flying 
leaps  of  oratory,  we  may  accept  a  fable 
written  by  himself :  "  A  caterpillar 
comes  to  a  fence ;  he  crawls  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  ditch  and  over  the  fence ; 
some  one  of  his  hundred  feet  always  in 
contact  with  the  object  upon  which  he 
moves  ;  a  gallant  horseman,  at  a  flying 
leap,  clears  both  ditch  and  fence. 
'  Stop  !'  says  the  caterpillar,  '  you  are 
too  flighty,  you  want  connection  and 
continuity  ;  it  took  me  an  hour  to  get 
over ;  you  can't  be  as  sure  as  I  am, 
who  have  never  quitted  the  subject, 
that  you  have  overcome  the  difficulty 
and  are  fairly  over  the  fence.'  '  Thou 
miserable  reptile,'  replies  our  huntsman, 
'  if,  like  you,  I  crawled  over  the  earth 
slowly  and  painfully,  should  I  ever 
catch  a  fox,  or  be  anything  more  than 
a  wretched  caterpillar  ?"  ^ 

It  was  during  Randolph's  short  period 
in  the  Senate,  in  April,  1826,  that  his 
famous  duel  occurred  with  Henry  Clay. 
It  grew  out  of  terms  employed  in  a 
speech  by  Randolph  on  the  Panama 
mission,  characterizing  the  union  of 
Clay  with  Adams  as  "  the  coalition  of 
Blifil  and  Black  George, — the  combina- 
tion, unheard  of  till  then,  of  the  puri- 
tan with  the  blackleg."  Clay  chal 
lenged  Randolph.  The  latter  accepted 
the  call  on  a  punctilio.  As  a  senator 
he  would  render  no  explanation  for 


>  Garland,  II.  300. 


96 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


words  spoken  in  deLate  ;  as  a  man,  he 
would  give  satisfaction  for  an  injury. 
A  resolution  like  this  admitted  no  ad- 
justment. To  preserve  his  consistency, 
Randolph  resolved  not  to  fire  at  his 
antagonist,  subtly  arguing  that,  if  he 
did,  he  would  admit  the  right  to  be 
questioned.  So  the  parties  met  on  the 
bank  of  the  Potomac.  Randolph  chose 
the  Virginia  side,  that  if  he  fell  it 
misrht  be  on  the  soil  of  his  State.  The 
word  was  to  be  given  by  the  seconds, 
for  reasons  of  humanity,  with  great 
quickness.  Clay  objected  to  this  rapid- 
ity, when  Randolph,  fancying  in  it  a 
murderous  intention,  altered  his  resolu- 
tion not  to  fire,  to  the  resolve  simply 
to  wound  his  antagonist.  Neither 
shot  of  the  first  fire  took  effect.  At 
the  second,  Randolph  resumed  his  ori- 
ginal intent  and  fired  in  the  air ;  Clay's 
bullet  passed  through  the  skirt  of  his 
coat.  The  parties  advanced  to  meet 
each  other,  and  a  prompt  reconciliation 
ensued.^  The  whole  transaction  is  cha- 
racteristic of  Randolph,  of  his  subtlety 
of  mind,  his  courage  and  chivalric  de- 
votion to  a  lofty  idea  of  magnanimity. 
On  his  last  visit  to  "Washington,  when 
near  his  death,  he  was  taken  to  the 
Senate  and  placed  near  Mr.  Clay,  who 
was  speaking.  He  desired  to  be  raised 
that  he  might  hear  "  that  voice  "  again. 
Mr.  Clay  came  to  him  and  offered  his 
hand :  "  Mr.  Randolph,  I  hope  you  are 
better,  sir."  "No,  sir,"  replied  Ran- 
dolph, "  I  am  a  dying  man,  and  I  came 
here  expressly  to  have  this  interview 
with  you." 

In  an  interval  of  his  Congressional 


'  Benton's  Thirty  Years  View,  I.  '70-'?. 


duties,  in  March,  1822,  Randolph  visit- 
ed England  for  the  first  time.  Enthu- 
siasm is  perhaps  too  cheerful  a  word  to 
be  applied  to  the  movements  of  his 
mind,  but  he  certainly  took  a  strong 
interest  in  this  pilgrimage  to  the  land 
of  his  fathers.    His  geographical  stu- 
dies had  given  him  a  better  acquaint- 
ance with  it  than  that  of  most  Eng- 
lishmen.    On  approaching  the  Irish 
coast  he  drew  delight  out  of  the  stores 
of  his  knowledge,  from  spots  where 
others  saw  but  barrenness.    The  island 
of  Rathlin  recalled  to  him  a  fund  of 
antiquarian  lore.     Snowdon  and  the 
Welsh  hills  brought  before  his  eye  the 
"Bard"  of  Gray.    "Thank  God!"  he 
exclaimed,  on  seeing  England,  "  that  I 
have  lived  to  behold  the  land  of  Shak- 
speare,  of  Milton,  of  my  forefathers  ! 
May  her  greatness  increase  through  all 
time."    Maria  Edgeworth  and  Eliza- 
beth Fry  were  especial  objects  of  his 
regard.    He  met  accidentally  with  the 
poet  Moore,  under  the  gallery  of  the 
House  of  Commons.    In  a  conversation 
with  his  friend  Harvey,^  he  described 
the  bard  as  "  a  spruce,  dapper  little 
gentleman,"  who  turned  out  "  a  most 
fascinating,  witty  fellow."    Moore  was 
sufficiently  tickled  with  the  interview 
and  the  Virginian's   compliments  to 
make  a  note  of  the  affair  in  his  diary — 
"  Sat  next  Randolph,  the  famous  Ame- 
rican orator;  a  singular  looking  man, 
with  a  young  old  face,  and  a  short, 
small  body,  mounted  upon  a  pair  of 
high  crane  legs  and  thighs,  so  that, 
when  he  stood  up,  you  did  not  know 

'  Jacob  Harvey,  of  New  York,  who  published  in  the 
Journal  of  Commerce,  a  very  interesting  series  of  Recol- 
lections of  Randolph. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


97 


when  lie  was  to  end,  and  a  squeaking 
voice  like  a  boy's  just  before  breaking 
into  manhood.  His  manner,  too, 
strange  and  pedantic,  but  liis  powers 
of  eloquence,  Washington  Irving  tells 
me,  wonderful."  ^  Having  travelled 
about  England,  and  visited  Scotland, 
Randolph  returned  home  in  November. 
In  tlie  summer  of  1824  he  again  visit- 
ed England,  when  he  included  Paris  in 
his  tour. 

Randolph  finally  retired  from  the 
House  of  Representatives,  in  which  he 
served  a  single  term  after  his  two 
years  in  the  Senate,  March,  1829.  He 
was  immediately  afterward  elected  to 
the  Virginia  Convention,  which  met 
for  the  revision  of  the  Constitution,  in 
October,  1829,  and  took  an  active  part 
in  its  debates.  The  convention  was 
packed  with  the  celebrities  of  the  State, 
the  Madisons,  Marsh  alls,  Monroes  and 
others,  but  Randolph  of  Roanoke  was 
paramount  among  them.  His  speech 
on  a  proposed  provision  for  future 
amendments  in  the  Constitution,  is  full 
of  that  political  wisdom  which  is  drawn 
fi'om  private  life,  the  family  and  soci- 
ety, admirably  enforced,  such  as  could 
have  called  forth  applause  from  his 
master,  Edmund  Burke. 

The  mission  to  Russia  followed. 
Men  stared  in  those  days,  as  at  the 
sight  of  a  comet,  at  his  departure  for 
St.  Petersburg ;  a  wild  destination  for 
a  shattered  invalid,  who  called  for  a 
miLder  climate  than  his  own  Virginia. 
It  was  in  his  view  a  roundabout  way 
of  getting  to  the  south  of  Europe,  and 
after  a  short  trial  of  its  summer  severi- 


'  Moore's  Diary,  30th  May,  1822. 


ties,  among  which,  he  insisted,  was  the 
subjection  of  his  man  Juba,  the  con- 
stant companion  of  his  travels,  to  a 
fit  of  illness — a  clear  case  of  yellow 
fever — and  the  ■  slightest  modicum  of 
diplomacy,  he  turned  his  steps  to  Eng- 
land. In  the  autumn  of  1831  he  re- 
turned to  the  United  States.  A  few 
more  speeches,  a  little  more  political 
agitation — this  time  at  the  expense  of 
his  old  friend,  Jackson — and  the  end 
came.  He  had  long  kept  up  a  hand  to 
hand  fight  with  death,  and  now  of  late 
years  had  found  his  best  security  in 
flight.  He  kept  posting  and  travelling, 
and  was  on  his  way  to  the  packet  for 
England,  when  he  was  finally  arrested 
at  Philadelphia,  at  the  age  of  sixty, 
June  24,  1833.  He  died  among  stran- 
gers, his  faithful  black  servant,  John, 
the  solitary  representative  of  his  Virgi- 
nia home,  by  his  side,  in  a  room  of  the 
City  Hotel.  The  last  scenes  of  his  life 
have  been  laid  before  the  world.  It  is 
a  story  of  pain,  of  agony  which  had  be- 
come so  inwrought  with  his  entire  ex- 
istence tTiat  it  does  not  seem  strange  on 
his  lips  now.  His  call  for  his  father's 
golden  shirt-stud  to  be  placed  on  his 
bosom  as  he  was  dying,  is  very  touch- 
ing. The  word  "  Remorse,"  which  he 
ordered  to  be  written  down,  calling 
for  a  dictionary — "  Get  a  dictionary, 
let  me  see  the  word,"  has  an  air  of  de- 
lirium. Not  so  his  reiterated  provisions 
for  his  slaves  whom  he  had  manumitted 
by  his  will.  It  was  the  cherished  pur- 
pose of  his  life  which  he  had  inherited 
with  his  brother's  example,  and  surely 
of  all  acts  to  close  his  troubled  pilgrim- 
age, that  from  him  was  most  accepta- 
ble— an  act  of  mercy  to  the  race  which 


98 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


had  ever  furnislied  Lim  in  Ms  multi- 
plied sorrows,  kind  nurses  and  faithful 
friends. 

Randolph  lived  in  dread  of  insanity 
and  would  often  quote  Johnson's  sad 
lines — 

"  In  life's  last  scene,  what  prodigies  surprise, 
Fears  of  the  brave,  and  follies  of  the  wise  1 
From  Marlborough's  eyes  the  streams  of  dotage 
flow. 

And  Swift  expires,  a  driveller  and  a  show." 

He  was  spared,  however,  that  fate. 
We  may  believe,  too,  that  in  the  many 
thoughts  which  crowded  his  excited 
brain,  the  consolations  of  religion  were 
not  wanting  to  his  later  years.  In  his 
youth  he  had  been  noted  as  a  free 
thinker;  he  afterwards  underwent  a 
"  conversion ;"  in  his  better  moments, 
when  he  was  most  himself,  he  was  cer- 
tainly a  devout  man. 

The  speeches  of  Randolph  have  been 
fairly  reported,  and  should  be  separately 
published  and  well  edited.  Many  just 
remarks  and  sound  maxims  of  life,  as 
well  as  witty  sayings,  will  be  found  in 
them.  In  his  conduct  Randolph  was 
erratic;  the  pressure  of  disease  upon 
his  feeble  frame  sometimes  brought  him 
within  the  verge  of  insanity ;  but  there 


was  no  incoherency  in  the  sagacity  of 
his  better  moments.  No  sounder  ad- 
vice to  youth,  more  kind,  persistent, 
earnest  on  common  topics  of  daily  life 
was  ever  given  than  that  which  he 
wrote  to  his  nephew,  Dr.  Theodore 
Bland  Dudley,  in  the  epistles  which  he 
has  published.  Labor,  Honor,  Truth 
are  his  topics,  with  the  minor  moral- 
ities of  life  reaching  down  to  gram- 
matical accuracies  and  the  folding  of 
a  letter.  It  is  sad  to  see  the  corres- 
pondence darken  as  the  years  thicken. 
Little  talk  now  of  books  and  ele- 
vated ideas,  but  a  fast  increasing  ner- 
vous sensibility  and  melancholy,  with 
much  of  the  weather,  of  sciaticas,  lum- 
bago, defluxions,  and  more  deadly  evils. 
He  would  render  a  good  service  to 
the  world,  who  should  throw  aside 
these  relics  of  suffering  and  disease, 
and  give  the  public  the  brighter, 
healthier  moments  of  John  Ran 
dolph.  His  broad  Virginia  acres,  the 
homes  of  his  youth,  his  desk  in  Con- 
gress, his  eloquence,  the  "  slow,  un- 
moving  finger,"  pointed  in  scorn  of 
baseness,  his  friends,  his  horses,  his 
books,  his  faithful  slaves,  would  figure 
in  such  a  narrative. 


I 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


Seldom  does  biography  offer  to  us 
so  pleasing  a  subject  as  the  life  of 
Washington  Irving.    It  is  of  beauty 
and  beneficence  from  the  beginning  to 
the  close — the  course  of  a  quiet,  tran- 
quil river,  fed  at  its  source  by  the  pur- 
ity of  rural  fountains ;  gathering  fer- 
tility on  its  banks  as  it  advances; 
pursuing  its  path  through  the  loveliness 
of  natui-e  and  by  the  "  towered  cities  " 
of  men,  to  lapse  into  final  tranquillity 
beneath  the  whispering  of  the  groves 
,  softly  sighing  on  the  borders  of  the  all-re- 
ceiving ocean.    Many  were  the  felicities 
of  the  life  of  Irving.    Of  a  good  stock, 
of  honorable  parentage,  happy  in  the 
associations  of  his  youth ;  gifted  with  a 
kindly  genius,  sure  to  receive  the  bless- 
ing which  it  gave,  attracted  to  the 
great  and  good  and  beloved  by  them  ; 
finding  its  nutriment  in  the  heroic  in 
history  and  the  amiable  in  life ;  return- 
ing that  generous  culture  in  enduring 
pictures  in  most  valued  books;  wiiting 
its  name  on  the  monuments  of  Colum- 
bus, Washington  and  Goldsmith  ;  fond- 
ly remembered  at  Stratford  upon  Avon, 
and  by  the  pensive  courts  of  the  Alham- 
bra;  endeared  to  many  a  cliff  and  wind- 
ing valley  of  his  native  Hudson : — his 
memory,  surely,  by  the  side  of  that  gen- 
erous stream  will  be  kept  green  and 
flourishing  with  undying  affection. 


If  the  felicity  of  a  poem  desired  by 
the  exquisite  Eoman  bard,  that  it 
should  be  consistent  with  itself  and 
proceed  to  the  end  as  it  commenced  at 
the  beginning,  be  a  just  measure  of  the 
happiness  of  life,  Washington  Irving 
enjoyed  that  prosperity. 

The  ancestry  of  Irving  belongs  to  an 
ancient  line  in  Scotland,  which  has 
been  traced  to  the  first  years  of  the 
fourteenth  century.  It  is  known  as 
"  the  knightly  family  of  Drum,"  from 
an  old  castle  still  occupied  by  the  de- 
scendants, on  the  banks  of  the  Dee. 
An  early  member  of  the  family  settled 
in  the  Orkneys,  where  the  race  flour- 
ished and  faded,  "  and  dwindled,  and 
dwindled,  and  dwindled,  until  the  last 
of  them,  nearly  a  hundred  years  since, 
sought  a  new  home  in  this  ISTew  World 
of  ours."^  This  was  William  Irvine:, 
who  arrived  in  New  York  in  1760, 
bringing  with  him  his  wife,  an  English 
lady  of  Cornwall,  whose  maiden  name 
was  Saunders.  These  were  the  parents 
of  Washington  Irving, 

He  was  born  in  William  street,  New 
York,  April  3,  1T83.  One  of  the  ear- 
liest recorded  incidents  of  his  life,  he 
probably  shared  in  common  with  many 

'  The  expression  is  that  of  Washington  Irving  himself. 
We  find  it  in  a  family  sketch  in  the  Richmond  Co.  Ga- 
zette, Dec.  14,  1859. 

99 


100 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


cliildren  of  the  period ;  but  it  is  better 
wortli  remembering  in  his  case  than 
the  others.  His  Scotch  nurse  taking 
him  out  one  day — ^it  was  the  time  of 
Washington's  inauguration,  and  the 
first  Congress  in  New  York — fell  in 
with  the  Father  of  his  Country,  and 
eagerly  seizing  the  opportunity,  pre- 
sented her  charge  to  his  notice.  "  Please, 
your  excellency,  here's  a  bairn  that's 
called  after  you  !"  Washington,  whose 
kind  nature  was  not  averse  to  such  so- 
licitations, laid  his  hand  upon  the  head 
of  the  child  and  blessed  it.  "That 
blessing,"  said  Irving,  in  one  of  his  lat- 
est years,  "  I  have  reason  to  believe  has 
attended  me  through  life." 

Irving' s  schooldays  were  not  over 
rigorous.  He  was  not  robust,  and  thus 
escaped  some  of  the  usual  persecutions 
of  the  pedagogues;  for  the  tradition 
runs  that  he  was  not  very  bright  in 
these  early  exercises.  Coming  home 
one  day,  he  told  his  mother,  "  The  ma- 
dam says  I  am  a  dunce  ;  isn't  it  a  pity !" 
The  story  is  worth  telling,  as  a  hint  to 
schoolmasters,  upon  whom  Dame  Na- 
ture is  forever  playing  these  mystifica- 
tions. In  Irving's  story  it  simply  wit- 
nesses that  he  had  a  genius  of  his  own, 
better  adapted  to  one  thing  than  ano- 
ther. It  does  not  appear,  however, 
that  he  derived  much  from  the  schools 
of  his  day  ;  and  as  ill  health  prevented 
his  entering  Columbia  College,  he 
passed  through  life  with  little  know- 
ledge of  Greek  and  Latin,  and  probably 
none  worth  mentioning  of  Greek.  His 
homf  education  in  English  literature 
was  more  thorough.  He  read  Chaucer 
and  Spenser,  Addison  and  Goldsmith, 
and  the  other  excellent  old-fashioned 


volumes  of  the  British  classical  book- 
shelf.   There  was  nothing  in  the  con- 
temporary literature  of  the  time  spe- 
cially to  engage  his  attention  ;  nothing 
at  all  to  wake  a  boy's  heart  at  home,  and 
no  Dickens  to  stir  his  perceptions  from 
the  other  side  of  the  water.   This  read- 
ing of  old  books  was,  doubtless,  favor- 
able to  the  employment  of  his  imagina- 
tion, a  faculty  which  is  always  excited 
by  pictures  of  the  past  and  distant. 
The  youth  soon  found  that  the  cloth  in 
this  old  wardrobe  of  the  days  of  Addi- 
son and  Dr.  Johnson  was  sound  enough 
to  bear  cutting  down  and  refitting  for 
the  limbs  of  another  generation.  So 
the  boy  became  an  essayist  of  the 
school  of  the  Spectator,  and  the  citizen 
of  the  World.    His  first  production  of 
which  we  have  any  knowledge  was 
written   at  the  age  of  nineteen,  the 
"  Letters  of  Jonathan  Oldstyle,"  a  series 
of  papers  on  the  follies  and  habits  of 
the  town,  with  an  especial  leaning  to 
its  theatrical  shows,  which  he  contri- 
buted to  the  "  Morning  Chronicle,"  a 
political  daily  newspaper  which  had 
been  recently  commenced  by  his  elder 
brother.  Dr.  Peter  Irving.    These  -pa.- 
pers  are  lively  and  humorous  produc- 
tions, and  though,  of  course,  they  do 
not  equal  the  polish  of  the  author's 
later  style,  yet  they  are  certainly  re- 
markable for  their  ease  and  finish. 
The    youth    was  evidently    on  the 
right  track,  and  knew  well  what  he 
was  about. 

The  next  incident  we  have  to  record 
is  a  pilgrimage  to  Europe,  induced  by 
symptoms  of  ill  health.  At  this  time 
and  for  some  years  after,  Mr.  Irving 
was  threatened  with  pulmonary  diffi- 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


101 


ciilties.    Indeed,  the  likeness  painted 
by  Jarvis,  in  liis  early  manhood,  bears 
painful  indications  of  this  type  of  con- 
stitution.   He  lived  to  outo-row  it  en- 
tirely.    There  can  be  no  more  pleasing 
surprise  than   a  glance  at  the  bril- 
liant prime,  from  the  pencil  of  Newton 
and  Leslie,  by  the  side  of  the  melan- 
choly portrait  by  Jarvis.     ITis  tour 
carried  him  to  France,  Italy,  Switzer- 
land and  England.    An  acquaintance 
with  Washington  Allston,  the  refined 
artist  at  Home,  half  persuaded  him  to 
turn   his   attention   to   painting,  for 
which  he  had  considerable  taste  and 
inclination.     The  pursuit,  amidst  the 
beauties  and  glories  of  the   arts  in 
the  Eternal  City,   cajoled  his  imagi- 
nation with  the  most  enticing  allure- 
ments.   "  For  two  or  three  days,"  he 
said,  "  the  idea  took  full  possession 
of  my  mind  ;  but  I  believe  it  owed  its 
main  force  to  the  lovely  evening  ram- 
ble in  which  I  first  conceived  it,  and  to 
the  romantic  friendship  I  had  formed 
with  Allston.    Whenever  it  recurred 
to  mind,  it  was  always  connected  with 
beautiful  Italian  scenery,  palaces  and 
statues,  and  fountains,  and  terraced 
gardens,  and  Allston  as  the  companion 
of  my  studio.     I  promised  myself  a 
world  of  enjoyment  in  his  society,  and 
in  the  society  of  several  artists  with 
whom  he  had  made  me  acquainted, 
and  pictured  forth  a  scheme  of  life,  all 
tinted  with  the  rainbow  hues  of  youth- 
ful promise.    My  lot  in  life,  however, 
was  differently  cast.    Doubts  and  fears 
gradually  clouded  over  my  prospects ; 
the  rainbow  tints  faded  away  ;  I  began 
to  apprehend  a  sterile  reality,  so  I  gave 
up  the  transient  but  delightful  pros- 
n.— 13 


pect  of  remaining  in  Kome  with  Allston, 
and  turning  painter."  ^ 

The  law  was  the  rather  unattractive 
alternative,  and  to  the  law  for  awhile 
the  young  enthusiast  returned  to  New 
York,  after  an  absence  abroad  of  two 
years.  He  read  law  with  the  late 
Judge  Josiah  Ogden  Hoffman,  and  old 
citizens  remember  his  attorney's  sign, 
for  he  was  admitted  to  practice ;  but 
he  did  not  pursue  the  profession. 

The  very  year  after  his  introduction 
to  the  bar,  in  January,  180Y,  appeared 
in  New  York  the  first  number  of  "  Sal- 
magundi; or,  the  Whim- whams  and 
Oj)inions  of  Launcelot  Langstaff,  Esq., 
and  others,"  a  small  18mo.  publication 
of  twenty  pages,  which  was  destined 
to  make  its  mark  upon  the  town,  and 
attract  the  notice  of  a  wider  circle. 
This  sportive  journal  was  the  produc- 
tion of  three  very  clever  wits — Wash- 
ington Irving,  his  elder  brother,  Wil- 
liam, the  verse-maker  of  the  fraternity, 
and  James  K.  Paulding,  who  also  then 
first  rose  to  notice  in  this  little  constel- 
lation.   New  York  was  not  at  that  time 
too  large  to  be  under  the  control  of  a 
skilful,  genial  satirist.    Compared  with 
the  metropolis  of  the  present  day,  it 
was  but  a  huge  family,  where  every- 
body of  any  consequence  was  known 
by  everybody  else.    A  postman  might 
run  over  it  in  an  hour.    One  bell  could 
ring  all  its  inhabitants  to  prayer  and 
one  theatre  sufficed  for  its  entertain- 
ment.   The  city,  in  fact,  while  large 
enough  to  afford  material  for  and  shel- 
ter a  humorist  with  some  degree  of 
privacy,  was,  so  far  as  society  was  con- 


'  Cj  clopffidia  of  American  Literature,  Art.  "  Allston." 


102 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


cerned,  a  very  manageable,  convenient 
instrument  to  play  upon.  The  genial 
wits  of  "Salmagundi"  touched  the 
strings  cunningly,  and  the  whole  town, 
with  agitated  nerves,  contributed  to 
the  music.  The  humors  of  fashion, 
dress,  the  dancing  assemblies,  the  mili- 
tia displays,  the  elections,  in  turn  yield- 
ed their  sport;  while  graver  touches 
of  pathos  and  sketches  of  character 
were  interposed,  of  lasting  interest. 
There  are  passages  in  "  Salmagundi," 
of  feeling,  humor  and  description 
which  the  writers  hardly  surpassed. 
The  work,  in  fine,  is  well  worthy  to 
take  its  place,  not  at  the  end  of  the 
series  of  the  British  classical  essayists, 
but  at  the  head  of  that  new  American 
set,  which  includes  "The  Idle  Man," 
"  The  Old  Bachelor,"  "  The  Lorgnette," 
and  other  kindred  meritorious  produc- 
tions. 

"  Salmagundi  "  closed  at  the  end  of 
the  year,  with  its  twentieth  number, 
and  was  shortly  succeeded  by  the 
famous  "History  of  New  York  fi^om 
the  Besinnino;  of  the  World  to  the  End 
of  the  Dutch  Dynasty,  by  Diedrich 
Knickerbocker,"  a  work  of  considera- 
ble compass  and  most  felicitous  execu- 
tion. The  book  was  commenced  ^vith 
little  regard  to  the  form  in  which  it 
finally  made  its  aj^pearance.  The  in- 
tention at  first  seems  to  have  been  to 
prepare  something  with  the  general 
notion  subsequently  wrought  out  in 
Mr.  Poole's  very  clever  "Little  Ped- 
lington  Papers" — to  ridicule  the  pre- 
tensions of  the  town,  which  had  been 
aggravated  by  the  appearance  of  a 
hand-book  of  a  highly  provincial  char- 
acter, entitled   "A  Picture  of  New 


York."  The  parody,  as  in  the  parallel 
instance  of  Mr.  Dickens's  "  Pickwick 
Papers,"  soon  outgrew  itself 

Previously  to  its  publication,  some- 
thing like  a  grave  history  was  looked 
for  from  Diedrich  Knickerbocker.  To 
whet  the  public  appetite,  an  advertise- 
ment was  inserted  in  the  "  Ev-ening 
Post,"  narrating,  under  the  heading 
"Distressing,"  the  departure  from  his 
lodgings  at  the  Columbian  Hotel,  Mul- 
berry street,  of  "  a  small  elderly  gen- 
tleman, dressed  in  an  old  black  coat 
and  cocked  hat,  by  the  name  of  Knicker- 
bocker," and  asking  printers  to  serve  the 
cause  of  humanity  by  giving  the  notice 
insertion.    "  A  Traveller  "  next  sends 
a  random  note  of  an  old  gentleman 
answering  the  description,  having  been 
seen  on  the  road  to  Albany,  above 
Kingsbridge.    After  the  lapse  of  a  rea- 
sonable time,  Seth  Handaside,  the  Yan- 
kee landlord,  announces  his  intention 
to  remunerate  himself  by  the  sale  of  a 
curious  manuscript  Mr.  Knickerbocker 
had  left  behind  him.    The  same  num- 
ber of  the  journal  had  an  advertisement 
of  the  publication   by  Inskeep  and 
Bradford. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  fun  in  Knick- 
erbocker— some  sheer  burlesque,  which 
begins  and  ends  with  the  page,  but  far 
more  genuine  humor  applicable  to 
wider  scenes  and  more  real  adventures. 
The  old  Dutch  families  took  ofiTence  at 
the  free  use  of  their  names,  which  were 
very  unceremoniously  handled. 

One  old  inhabitant  of  the  North 
River,  who  rejoiced  in  the  patronymic 
itself,  Knickerbocker,  it  is  said  was 
especially  aggrieved,  and  we  have 
heard  of  the   author's  exclusion,  in 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


103 


one  instance,  from  tlie  entertainments 
of  a  leading  colonial  family.  Years 
after,  tlie  spirit  of  tlie  work  was  con- 
demned in  a  grave  paper  read  be- 
fore the  New  York  Historical  Society  ; 
and  tlie  censure  has  of  late  been  re- 
vived by  so  judicious  a  person  as  Mr. 
Edward  Everett.^  The  truth  of  the 
matter  is,  that  society  must  be  very 
weak  indeed,  which  cannot  bear  the  in- 
fliction of  so  really  good  natured  a  jest 
as  this  Diedrich  Knickerbocker's  His- 
tory of  New  York.  Though  it  occu- 
pied the  attention  of  the  public,  and 
to  a  certain  degree  gave  color  to  rather 
a  ludicrous  estimate  of  our  Dutch  fore- 
fathers in  the  absence  of  popular  his- 
tories, w^hich  it  is  perhaps  a  misfortune 
were  not  written  earlier,  yet  it  has 
proved  no  obstacle  to  the  serious  opera- 
tions of  Clio,  in  the  works  of  Brodhead, 
O'Callaghan  and  others;  while  it  has 
in  a  thousand  ways  perpetuated  the 
memory  of  the  old  Dutch  dynasties. 
The  Dutchmen  of  New  York  had  never 
been  called  Knickerbockers  before; 
now  it  is  quite  an  accredited  designa- 
tion, not  without  honor  and  esteem 
throughout  the  world.  In  the  words 
of  the  author's  apology,  prefixed  to  the 
revised  edition  of  1848  :  "  Before  the 
appearance  of  my  work,  the  popular  tra- 
ditions of  our  city  were  unrecorded; 
the  peculiar  and  racy  customs  and 
usages  derived  from  our  Dutch  progen- 
itors wei-e  unnoticed,  or  regarded  with 
indifference,  or  adverted  to  with  a 
sneer.    Now  they  form  a  convivial  cur- 


'  Mr.  Verplanck's  Anniversary  Discourse  before  the 
New  York  Historical  Society,  December,  1818.— Mr.  Eve- 
rett's obituary  remarks  on  Irving,  before  the  Massachu- 
setts HistoricalSociety,  December,  1859. 


rency,  and  are  bi-ought  forward  on  all 
occasions  :  they  link  our  whole  commu- 
nity together  in  good  humor  and  good 
fellowship ;  they  are  the  rallying  points 
of  home  feeling — the  seasoning  of  our 
civic  festivities — the  staple  of  local 
tales  and  local  pleasantries,  and  are  so 
harped  upon  by  our  writers  of  popular 
fiction,  that  I  find  myself  almost  crowd- 
ed off  the  legendary  ground  which  I 
was  the  first  to  explore,  by  the  host 
who  have  followed  in  my  footsteps." 

This  home  sensitiveness,  of  course, 
was  never  felt  abroad.  A  copy  of  the 
work  was  sent  by  the  author's  friend, 
Mr.  Brevoort,  to  Sir  Walter  Scott.  His 
verdict  upon  this  "most  excellently 
jocose  history,"  as  he  termed  it,  is  con- 
clusive. It  was  read  in  his  family  with 
absolute  riot  of  enjoyment.  He  com- 
pared it  advantageously  with  Swift, 
and  failed  not  to  note  its  more  serious 
pathetic  passages,  which  reminded  him 
of  Sterne.  This  led  the  way  afterward 
to  an  introduction  to  Scott  at  Abbots- 
ford,  and  the  formation  of  a  friend- 
ship which  lived  while  Scott  lived, 
and  which  was  cherished  among  the 
most  valued  TecoUections  of  Irving's 
life. 

His  next  literary  performance  was  a 
brief  biography  of  the  poet  Campbell, 
mitten  for  an  American  edition  of  the 
jDoet's  works.  The  author  showed  him- 
self at  home  in  this  department  of 
literature,  in  which  he  subsequently 
became  so  greatly  distinguished. 

We  hear  of  him  now  engaged  in  the 
mercantile  calling  of  his  brother ;  but 
hardware  and  cutlery  had  little  attrac- 
tion for  him.  The  iron,  it  may  be  said, 
never  entered  into  his  soul.  When 


10-1 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


the  war  witli  Great  Britain  shortly 
after  broke  out,  we  find  Lim  on  the 
military  staff  of  Governor  Tompkins, 
with  the  title  of  Colonel.  Colonel  Ir- 
ving !  It  no  more  belonged  to  his 
name  than  the  hardware  sign.  Yet  we 
have  no  doubt  he  would  have  done 
credit  to  it  if  called  into  active  service. 
As  it  proved,  his  pen  was  more  in  re- 
quisition than  his  sword.  He  was  em- 
ployed, in  the  years  1813  and  1814,  in 
conducting  the  "  Analectic  Magazine," 
published  by  Moses  Thomas,  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  at  that  time  specially  de- 
voted to  military  and  naval  affairs.  In 
the  original  department  of  this  work, 
in  which  he  was  aided  by  Mr.  Ver- 
planck  and  Mr.  Paulding,  he  wrote, 
beside  other  papers,  the  biographies 
of  Lieut.  Burrows,  Captain  Lawrence, 
Commodore  Perry,  and  Captain  Porter. 
They  are  all  spirited  productions,  cal- 
culated to  warm  the  heart  of  the  coun- 
try, justly  proud  of  the  brilliant  achieve- 
ments of  these  worthies ;  while  they 
are  quite  free  from  the  besetting  sin  in 
such  cases,  of  patriotic  exaggeration. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  he  sailed  for 
Liverpool,  and  took  charge  of  the 
affairs  of  the  mercantile  house  with 
which  he  was  connected.  The  sudden 
change  of  business  affairs  at  the  peace 
greatly  embarrassed  the  firm.  After 
suffering  the  torture  of  the  agony  of 
the  counting-room  during  this  period 
of  failing  credit,  he  finally  became  dis- 
engaged from  the  affair,  and  directed 
his  steps  to  London  and  the  booksel- 
lers for  a  livelihood. 

He  now  turned  his  talent  for  obser- 
vation and  description  to  account  in 
the  production  of  the  series  of  papers 


included  in  the  "  Sketch  Book."  They 
are  the  first  fruits  of  his  English  expe- 
rience, mingled  with  some  fanciful  cre- 
ations, as  the  legends  of  Rip  Van  "Win- 
kle and  Sleepy  Hollow,  based  on  Ame- 
rican recollections.  The  great  success 
of  the  work  was  not  attained  at  a  sin- 
gle blow.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
opening  for  such  a  work  in  the  English 
market.  The  publication  was,  in  fact, 
commenced  in  New  York,  in  numbers. 
When  a  portion  of  it  had  thus  ap- 
peared, it  reached  William  Jerdan,  the 
editor  of  the  "  London  Literary  Ga- 
zette," whose  practised  eye  detected  at 
once  a  good  thing  for  his  journal.  He 
reprinted  several  of  the  papers,  when 
the  author  offered  the  work  to  Murray. 
The  usual  answer  in  such  cases  was 
returned,  couched  in  imposing  phrase, 
as  a  mark  of  respect :  "  If  it  would 
not  suit  me  to  engage  in  the  publica- 
tion of  your  work,  it  is  only  because  I 
do  not  see  that  scope  in  the  nature  of 
it  which,  would  enable  me  to  make 
those  satisfactory  accounts,"  etc.  In 
this  strait  the  author  ' addressed  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  who,  generously  appre- 
ciating the  man  and  his  work,  promised 
his  aid  with  Constable,  and  as  the  best 
thing  at  hand  in  the  meanwhile  offered 
Irving  a  salary  of  five  hundred  pounds 
to  conduct  a  weekly  periodical  at  Ed- 
inburgh. His  correspondent  was,  how- 
ever, too  chary  of  Ids  talents  as  an  au- 
thor of  all  work  to  engage  in  this 
undertaking.  He  put  his  book  to 
press  in  London  at  his  own  expense, 
with  John  Miller,  and  Miller  soon  after 
failed.  Sir  Walter,  the  beneficent  deus 
ex  macliina^  now  opportunely  Happened 
in  London,  and  arranged  the  pu}>lica- 


WASHINGTON  IRYING. 


105 


tion  witli  Murray,  wlio  thenceforward 
became  tlie  author's  fast  friend  and 
most  liberal  paymaster.  The  "  Sketch 
Book"  was  a  brilliant  success.  Jeffrey 
reviewed  it,  Lockhart  admired,  Byron 
praised  and  Moore  sought  the  author's 
acquaintance  at  Paris  on  the  strength 
of  it. 

"Bracebridge  Hall"  followed  the 
"  Sketch  Book  "  in  1822  ;  and  the  close 
of  the  next  year  brought  its  sequel,  the 
"Tales  of  a  Traveller."  All  these 
works  have  more  or  less  the  character- 
istics of  the  first  member  of  the  family. 
There  is  an  elaborate  elegance  of  style, 
a  certain  delicacy  and  sweetness  of 
sentiment,  an  easy  grace  of  reflection,  a 
happy  tui^n  of  description.  The  writer 
does  not  draw  a  great  deal  on  his  in- 
vention for  the  characters  or  the  inci- 
dents, but  he  managed  to  develop  both 
with  skill,  and,  being  always  a  jealous 
watcher  of  his  own  powers,  and  cau- 
tious in  feeling  the  pulse  of  the  public, 
he  looked  for  new^  material  before  the 
old  was  exhausted.  There  is  a  good 
genius  always  waiting  to  help  ability 
and  sincerity.  Just  as  the  essayist 
may  have  felt  the  want  of  a  new 
field  for  his  exertions,  he  was  invited, 
by  Mr.  Alexander  H.  Everett,  to  "Spain 
with  a  view  to  the  translation  of  the 
collection  of  Spanish  documents  re- 
cently made  by  JSTavarrete  from  the 
long  and  jealously  secluded  public 
archives.  He  undertook  the  work, 
which  called  for  something  far  above 
translation,  and  the  essayist  bloomed 
into  the  historian.  The  "History  of 
the  Life  and  Voyages  of  Christopher 
Columbus,"  appeared  in  due  time,  fol- 
lowed by  the  "Voyages  and  Disco- 


veries of  the  Companions  of  Colum- 
bus." Both  works  greatly  enhanced 
the  reputation  of  the  authoi-.  Litera- 
ture, indeed,  awards  her  highest  hon- 
ors to  the  historian.  Histoiy  has  just 
laid  Macaulay  in  Westminster  Abbey. 
Jefixey  reviewed  the  "  Columbus " 
with  enthusiasm  in  the  "  Edinburgh," 
and  the  George  IV.  fifty  guinea  gold 
medal  was  conferred  upon  Hallam 
and  Living  at  the  same  time. 

The  literary  execution  of  the  "Co- 
lumbus "  must  be  pronounced  in  gen- 
eral very  happy.  There  is  perhaps  a 
little  cloying  sweetness  in  its  regular- 
ly constructed  periods ;  but  these  ele- 
gantly apportioned  sentences  are  al- 
ways made  to  bear  their  full  weight 
of  thought.  The  condensation  is  ad- 
mirable, while  there  is  a  richness  of 
phraseology,  and  a  warm  glow  of  the 
imagination  is  spread  over  the  whole. 
It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this  ex- 
cellence was  attained  without  labor.  It 
is  the  fiat  of  fate,  says  "Wirt,  from 
which  no  power  of  genius  can  absolve 
a  man.  Irving,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Lieutenant  Slidell,  who  pronounced 
the  style  unequal,  re-wrote  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  work.  Professor  Lonff- 
fellow,  who  saw  Irving  while  it  was 
in  progress  in  Spain,  recalls  the  "  pa- 
tient, persistent  toil "  of  the  author. 
The  genius  of  Irving  delighted  in  these 
Spanish  themes.  After  he  had  made 
the  intimate  acquaintance  of  various 
parts  of  Europe,  the  land  of  the  Sara- 
cen seemed  to  present  to  him  the  great- 
est attractions.  He  devoted  his  genius 
to  the  revival  of  her  history,  and  the 
embellishment  of  her  legends.  Had 
opportunity  permitted,  he  would  doubt 


lOG 


WASniNGTON  IRVING. 


less  liave  produced  companion  volumes 
to  tlie  Columbus  on  themes  wliicli  af- 
terwards engaged  the  jien  of  Prescott. 
As  it  was,  he  gave  the  world  those  de- 
lightful books,  .the  "  Conquest  of  Grra- 
nada,"  the  "  Alhambra,"  the  "  Legends 
of  the  Conquest  of  Spain,"  and  "  Maho- 
met and  his  Successors."  His  imagina- 
tion was  thoroughly  captivated  by  the 
daring,  pathetic,  and  tender  scenes  of 
these  old  tales  of  adventure,  witli 
whicli  his  genius  was  very  apt  to  blend 
some  lurking  touch  of  humor. 

At  the  close  of  Ms  long  residence  in 
Spain,  Mr.  Irving  passed  some  time  in 
England,  enjoying  for  a  while  the  post 
of  secretary  of  legation  to  the  Ameri- 
can embassy.  He  left  London  in  1832, 
on  his  return  to  America,  after  an  ab- 
sence of  seventeen  years,  arriving  in  the 
month  of  May,  at  New  York,  where  lie 
found  a  most  cordial  welcome  awaiting 
him.  A  public  dinner  was  given  to  kim 
by  his  friends,  numbering  some  of 
the  most  distinguished  persons  in  the 
country.  Chancellor  Kent  presided  at 
the  banquet.  Irving  was  congratulated 
in  the  handsomest  terms  on  the  eminent 
services  he  had  rendered  the  literature  of 
his  country,  and  replied  in  the  simplest 
words,  congratulating  his  fellow  citizens 
on  their  prosperity  as  he  drew  an  attrac- 
tive picture  of  the  growth  and  beauty 
of  New  York,  and  expressed  the  warm- 
est emotions  at  his  reception.  His 
essential  modesty  led  him  to  value  such 
tributes  highly ;  though  he  very  seldom 
allowed  himself  to  be  put  in  the  way 
of  them. 

The  sight  of  America  appeared  to 
revive  in  him  the  freshness  and  adven- 
tui-e  of  youth.    In  the  very  summer  of 


his  return  he  accomj)anied  Mr.  Ells- 
worth, one  of  the  commissioners  for 
removing  the  Indian  tribes  to  the 
west  of  the  Mississippi,  a  journey  of 
which  he  published  an  animated  ac- 
count in  1835.    This   sharpened  his 
pen  for  the  fascinating  narrative  enti- 
tled "  Astoria,  or  Anecdotes  of  an  En- 
terprise beyond  the  Kocky  Mountains," 
which  appeared  the  ensuing  year,  and 
was  followed  by  a  work  of  similar  cha- 
racter, the  "Adventures   of  Captain 
Bonneville,  U.S.A.,  in  the  Eocky  Moun- 
tains and  the  Far  West."    The  skilful 
grouping  and  picturesque  narrative  of 
these  books,  rendering  an  otherwise 
confused   and   encumbered   story  so 
charming,  leave  us  to  regret  that  so 
much  excellent  matter  of  the  kind 
should  be  so  frequently  thrown  away 
for  lack  of  these  literary  advantages. 

Though  Mr.  Irving  had  received  large 
sums  for  copyright,  yet  'from  losses 
from  investment  which  he  had  experi- 
enced, his  income  could  not  at  this 
time  have  been  large,  for  we  find  him 
yielding  to  an  agreement  of  a  character 
always  irksome  to  a  man  of  his  tem- 
perament, to  furnish  regular  monthly 
articles  to  a  periodical.  Some  of  the 
pleasantest  of  his  later  papers,  howev- 
er, were  written  in  this  way  for  the 
"Knickerbocker"  magazine,  in  1839 
and  1840  ;  a  selection  from  which  was 
afterwards  made  by  him  in  the  volume 
entitled  "  Wolfert's  Eoost." 

In  1852,  Mr.  Irving  received  the  ap- 
pointment from  the  government  of 
minister  to  Spain.  Its  announcement 
by  Daniel  Webster,  at  whose  sugges- 
tion it  was  made,  was  entirely  unex- 
pected by  him.    A  passing  compli 


WASHINGTON  ITIYING, 


107 


nu'iit  paid  liim  at  tliis  time  is  worth 
reoordina".  It  occurs  in  Mr.  Charles 
Dickens's  "  American  Notes,"  in  a  de- 
serijition  of  a  Presidential  drawing 
room  at  Washington,  when  Irving  was 
present  in  his  ne^v  character  for  the 
first  and  last  time  before  going  abroad. 
"  I  sincerely  believe,"  says  Dickens, 
"  that  in  all  t^ie  madness  of  American 
politics,  few  public  men  would  have 
been  so  earnestly,  devotedly  and  affec- 
tionately caressed  as  this  most  charm- 
ing -ui'iter  :  and  I  have  seldom  respect- 
ed a  public  assembly  more  than  I  did 
this  eager  throng,  when  I  saw  them 
turning  ^^dth  one  mind  from  noisy  ora- 
tors and  officers  of  state,  and  flocking 
with  a  generous  and  honest  impulse 
round  the  man  of  quiet  pursuits  :  proud 
in  his  promotion  as  reflecting  back 
upon  their  country :  and  grateful  to 
him  with  their  whole  hearts  for  the 
store  of  graceful  fancies  he  had  poured 
out  among  them." 

Mr.  Irving  passed  several  years  in 
Sj)ain  in  his  diplomatic  capacity,  devot- 
ing himself  assiduously  to  the  duties 
of  his  position.  His  dispatches  in  the 
State  Paper  Office  will  doubtless,  should 
the  time  ever  come  for  their  publica- 
tion, present  a  valuable  picture  6f  the 
changing  political  fortunes  of  the  coun- 
try during  his  term. 

On  his  return  from  Spain,  Mr.  Irving 
made  his  home  for  the  remainder  of  his 
life  at  his  beautiful  country  seat,  "  Sun- 
nyside,"  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
Hudson,  some  twenty  miles  from  New 
York.  Here  he  resided  in  the  midst 
of  his  family,  consisting  of  his  brother 
and  nieces,  occasionally  visiting  his 
friends  in  Virginia  and  other  portions 


of  the  country,  but  gradually  limiting 
his  journeys  to  the  neighboring  city. 
At  Sunnyside,  in  these  later  years,  he 
prepared  the  revised  editions  of  his 
books,  Avhich  now  became  a  source  of 
regular  profit,  wrote  the  "  Life  of  Oliver 
Goldsmith,"  and  completed  the  crown- 
ing labor  of  his  long  literary  career,  the 
"Life  of  George  Washington."  The 
interval  between  the  publication  of  the 
first  of  the  five  volumes  and  the  last, 
was  five  years.  It  was  com|)leted  the 
very  year  of  his  death.  His  design 
was  to  present  in  simple,  unambitious 
narrative  a  thoroughly  truthful  view 
of  the  character  of  Washington — of  the 
acts  of  his  life  with  an  impartial  esti- 
mate of  the  men  and  agencies  by  which 
he  was  surrounded.  He  attained  all 
this  and  more.  His  work  has  been 
read  with  interest,  nay,  with  afi^ection, 
and  promises  long  to  retain  its  hold 
upon  the  public. 

Mr.  Irving  had  now  reached  the 
close  of  life,  with  as  few  of  the  infirmi- 
ties as  fall  to  the  lot  even  of  those  ac- 
counted most  fortunate.  His  health, 
delicate  in  his  youth,  had  strengthened 
with  his  years,  and  during  the  long 
periods  of  his  residence  abroad  he 
knew  no  illness.  The  breaking  up  of 
his  powers  was  gradual,  afi'ecting  only 
his  physical  strength.  His  mind — the 
felicity  of  his  thoughts,  the  beauty  of  his 
expression,  his  style,  were  unimpaired 
to  the  last.  His  death  occurred  sud- 
denly, in  his  Sunnyside  cottage,  as  he 
was  retiring  to  rest  on  the  night  of 
November  28,  1859.  He  fell  with 
scarcely  a  word — • 

"Death  broke  at  once  the  vital  chain, 
And  freed  his  soul  the  nearest  way." 


108 


WASHINGTON  mVING. 


"  It  was  scarcely  deatli,"  said  an  emi- 
nent artist^  to  us,  a  dweller  on  tlie 
banks  of  his  own  Hudson,  thinking  of 
the  fulness  of  years  and  honors,  and 
the  mild  departure — "  it  was  a  transla- 
tion." 

The  good  omen  of  this  happily 
rounded  life  was  repeated  on  the  day 
of  the  funeral,  which  drew  multitudes 
of  honored  citizens  from  New  York  to 
participate  in  the  last  rites.  It  was 
the  first  of  December,  a  day  of  unu- 
sual gentleness  and  beauty,  the  last, 
as  it  proved,  of  the  calm  Indian  sum- 
mer. All  nature  breathed  tranquil- 
lity, as  the  sun  descended  upon  the 
sleeping  river  and  silent  evergreens. 
Every  shop  in  the  village  of  Tarrytown, 
where  the  services  were  performed  at 
Christ's  Church,  was  shut,  and  the  ut- 
most decorum  prevailed  throughout 
the  thronging  crowd  during  the  day 
which  closed  upon  his  grave  on  the 
hill-side  of  the  Tarrytown  cemetery.  It 
was,  as  President  King  remarked  at 
the  subsequent  memorial  meeting  of 
the  New  York  Historical  Society,  "a 
Washington  Irving  day."  The  country 
will  not  soon  forget  the  memorable 
scene. 

The  life  of  "Washington  Irving  was 
so  truthful,  so  simple,  so  easily  to  be 
read  by  all  men,  that  few  words  are 
needed  for  an  analysis  of  his  character. 
He  was  primarily  a  man  of  genius — that 
is,  nature  had  given  him  a  faculty  of 
doing  what  no  one  else  could  do  pre- 
cisely, and  doing  it  well.  His  talent 
was  no.  doubt  improved  by  skill  and 
exercise;  but  we  see  it  working  in 


'  Mr.  Weil-,  of  West  Point. 


his  earliest  books,  when  he  could 
scarcely  have  dreamt  of  the  author. 
Indeed,  he  was  thrown  upon  author- 
ship apparently  by  accident ;  a  lucky 
shipwreck  of  his  fortunes,  as  it  proved, 
for  the  world.  In  this  faculty,  which 
he  possessed  better  than  anybody  else 
in  America,  the  most  important  ingre- 
dient was  humor — a  kindly  perception 
of  life,  not  unconscious  of  its  weakness- 
es, tolerant  of  its  frailties,  capable  of 
throwing  a  beam  of  sunshine  into  the 
darkness  of  its  misfortunes.  The  heart 
was  evidently  his  logician  ;  a  pure  life 
his  best  instructor.  He  loved  litera- 
ture, but  not  at  the  expense  of  society. 
Though  his  writings  were  fed  by  many 
secret  rills,  flowing  from  the  elder 
worthies,  the  best  source  of  his  inspi- 
ration was  daily  life.  He  was  always 
true  to  its  commonest,  most  real  emo- 
tions. 

In  all  his  personal  intercourse  with 
others,  in  every  relation  of  life,  Mr.  Ir- 
ving, in  an  eminent  degree,  exhibited 
the  qualities  of  the  gentleman.  They 
were  principles  of  thought  and  ac- 
tion, in  the  old  definition  of  Sir  Philip 
Sidney,  "  seated  in  a  heart  of  courtesy." 
His  manners,  while  they  were  charac- 
terized by  the  highest  refinement,  were, 
simple  to  a  degree.  His  habits  of  liv- 
ing were  plain,  though  not  homely : 
everything  about  him  displayed  good 
taste,  and  an  expense  not  below  the 
standard  of  his  fortunes  ;  but  there  was 
no  ostentation.  No  man  stood  more 
open  to  new  impressions.  His  sensibi- 
lity was  excited  by  everything  noble 
or  generous,  and  we  may  add,  anything 
which  displayed  humor  of  character, 
from  whatever  sphere  of  life  the  exam- 


WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


pie  was  drawn.  His  genius  responded 
to  eveiy  honest  toucli  of  nature  in  lit- 
erature or  art.  He  was  a  man  of  feel- 
ing, with  the  sympathies  of  a  Macken- 
zie or  a  Goldsmith.  Nor  did  these 
emotions,  with  him,  rest  only  in  the 
liLxm-ies  of  sentiment.  He  was  a  prac- 
tical guide,  counsellor  and  friend ; 
and  his  benevolence  was  not  confined 
to  this  charmed  cii'cle  of  home  and 
neighborhood.  In  public  affairs,  though 
unfitted  for  the  duties  of  the  working 
politician,  his  course  was  independent 
and  patriotic,  No  heart  beat  warmer 
in  love  of  country  and  the  Union,  and 
the  honor  of  his  nation's  flag.  This  is 
worth  mentioning  in  his  case,  for  his 
tastes  and  studies  led  him  to  retii'e- 
ment ;  but  he  did  not  suffer  it  to  be  an 
inglorious  ease,  to  which  higher  ends 
should  be  sacrificed. 

Much  has  been  said  of  the  influence 
upon  his  life  of  an  early  attachment. 
He  was  engaged  to  a  daughter  of  the 
late  Judge  Josiah  Hoflfman.  The  lady 
died  and  her  lover  never  married. 

n.— 14 


There  is  thought  to  be  an  allusion  to 
this  in  a  beautiful  passage  in  his 
sketch  of  St.  Mark's  Eve  in  "Brace- 
bridge  Hall,"  where  it  is  written; — 
"There  are  departed  beings  that  I 
have  loved  as  I  never  again  shall  love 
in  this  world — that  have  loved  me  as 
I  never  again  shall  be  loved."  Mr. 
Thackeray,  the  eminent  novelist,  has 
mentioned  this  tenderly  in  a  few  words 
of  tribute  to  the  memory  of  his  friend 
"  He  had  loved  once  in  his  life.  The 
lady  he  loved  died  ;  and  he,  whom  all 
the  world  loved,  never  sought  to  re- 
place her.  I  can't  say  how  much  the 
thought  of  that  fidelity  has  touched 
me.  Does  not  the  very  cheerfulness  of 
his  after  life  add  to  the  pathos  of  that 
untold  story  ?  To  grieve  always  was 
not  in  his  nature ;  or,  when  he  had  his 
sorrow,  to  bring  all  the  world  in  to 
condole  with  him  and  bemoan  it.  Deep 
and  quiet  he  lays  the  love  of  his  heart 
and  buries  it,  and  grass  and  flowers 
grow  over  the  scarred  ground  in  due 
time." 


ABBOTT  LAWRENCE 


The  father  of  this  liberal  and  enligM- 1 
ened  merchant,  Samuel  Lawrence,  was 
a  soldier  of  the  Ke volution,  a  descend- 
ant of  the  early  eniigrants  of  the  name, 
from  an  ancient  stock  in  England,  who 
settled  at   Groton,  in  Massachusetts, 
He  was  one  of  the  minute-men  who 
stood  ready  for  the  field  on  the  news 
of  Lexington.    When  word  reached 
his  town  of  Groton,  of  the  movement 
of  the  British  troops,  on  the  instant  he 
was  mounted,  making  his  circuit  of 
seven  miles,  summoning  his  men  and 
returning  to  his  father's  house  in  thirty 
minutes.    In  three  hours  he  was  ready 
to  march,  and  the  next  day,  the  ^Oth 
of  April,  1YY5,  was  at  Cambridge, 
ready  for  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  in 
which  he  took  part.    He  received  a 
bullet  through  his  cap,  and  a  spent 
grapeshot  struck  his  arm.  Providence 
reserved  him  for  other  duties.    He  was 
married  in  the  summer  of  while 
attached  to  the  anny,  to  Susanna  Par- 
ker, of  his  native  town,  a  lady  who 
survived  him  at  an  advanced  age.  As 
a  characteristic  incident  of  the  times, 
we  may  mention  that  he  was  called 
away  from  the  wedding  ceremony  to 
his  post  in  the  army  within  the  hour. 
His  mother  had  given  her  opinion  in 
favor  of  the  marriage,  "  as  Susan  had 
better  be  Sam's  widow  than  his  forlorn 
uo 


damsel."    He  was  in  the  battle  of 
Rhode  Island,  and  retired  from  the 
service  to  his  native  town  at  the  close 
of  1Y78.    There  he  pursued  the  life  of 
a  farmer,  an  intelligent  man  of  his 
class,  since  we  find  him  chosen  a  dea- 
con of  the  church,  justice  of  the  peace, 
and  an  enlightened  supporter  of  -the 
seminary  in  Groton,  since  enriched  by 
his  sons,  and  bearing  the  family  name 
His  two  sons,  who  are  associated  in 
fame,  Amos  and  Abbott,  were  born  in 
that  town  respectively  in  the  years 
1Y86  and  1192}    The  brothers  became 
partners  in  business,  and  acquired  their 
fortunes  and  reputation  together,  so 
that  the  story  of  oiie  for  a  good  por- 
tion of  their  lives  is  that  of  the  otlier. 
They  were  both  educated  in  the  public 
school,  and  afterwards  in  the  Academy 
of  Groton,  as  it  was  then  called.  Amos 
being  six  years  the  elder,  preceded  his 
brother  in  his  devotion  to  business. 
He  passed  from  the  Academy  to  the 
store  of  a  country  merchant  in  the 
town,  and  thence,  on  coming  of  age,  to 
Boston,  where  he  went  with  twenty 
dollars  in  his  pocket  to  make  acquaint- 
ances and  procure  credit,  with  a  view 
to  settle  as  a  storekeeper  in  his  native 


'  Amos  Lawrence  was  born  April  22,  1786 ;  Abbott  on 
the  16th  December,  1792. 


ABBOTT  LAWRENCE. 


place.    Instead  of  tliis  lie  accepted  a 
clerksliip,  witli  cliaracteristic  sagacity 
decruiiug  a  partnersliip  ;  Ms  employer 
failed,  and  "before  liis  first  year  of  city 
life  was  out,  tlie  young  adventurer  was 
established  on  liis  own  account  in  a 
small  store  in  Cornliill.    Abbott  at  this 
time  was  fifteen  years  old  and  at  school. 
At  sixteen,  in  October,  1808,  he  joined 
his  brother  in  Boston,  as  an  apprentice. 
An  entry  of  Amos  in  his  diary,  records 
his  appearance:  "In  1808  he  came  to 
me  as  my  apprentice,  bringing  his  bun- 
dle under  his  arm,  with  less  than  three 
dollars  in  his  pocket,  and  this  was  his 
fortune."    His  brother,  whose  character 
for  industry  and  integrity  was  already 
formed,  adds,  "  a  first-rate  business  lad 
he  was,  but,  like  other  bright  lads, 
needed  the  careful  eye  of  a  senior  to 
guard  him  ft'om  the  pitfalls  that  he 
was  exposed  to."  ^    We  do  not  find 
him,  however,  neglecting  his  opportu- 
nities, for  on  the  first  of  January,  1814, 
when  he  had  become  of  age,  he  was 
taken  in  partnership  by  his  brother  on 
equal  shares,  Amos  putting  in  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  which  he  had  earned. 
The  "  Bramble  news,"  three  days  after- 
ward, knocked  down  the  high  price  of 
goods,  and  as  the  stock  of  the  new 
house  was  large,  the  junior  partner  saw 
himself  a  bankrupt.    He  was  generous- 
ly reassured  by  his  brother,  who  offered 
to  cancel  his  obligations  and  secure 
him  five  thousand  dollars  at  the  end  of 
the  year.     "He  declined  the  offer," 
writes  Amos,  "  saying  I  should  lose 
that  and  more  beside,  and,  as  he  had 


'  Diary  and  Correspondence  of  Amos  Lawrence,  edited 
by  his  son,  William  R.  Lawrence,  p.  88. 


enlisted,  would  do  the  best  he  could." 
Such  was  the  character  of  the  two 
brothers,  and  such  were  the  elements 
of  their  success. 

Abbott,  who  appears  always  to  have 
had  a  sufficiency  of  public  spirit,  dur- 
ing the  overthrow  of  business  by  the 
war,  and  the  prospect  of  invasion,  oc- 
cupied himself  with  military  duty  as 
a  soldier,  while  his  brother  took  charge 
of  the  counting-house.    His  fondness 
for  a  soldier's  life  even  led  him  to  make 
application  to  the  War  Department  for 
a  commission  in  the  army ;  but  peace 
intervening,  the  intention  was  aban- 
doned.   Turning  his  attention  anew 
to  commercial  business,  he  was  sent 
by  his  brother  to  England  in  the  first 
vessel  which   left  Boston   after  the 
proclamation  of  peace.    Abundance  of 
good  counsel  followed  him,  with  the 
details  of  trade,  in  the  fraternal  corres- 
pondence.   He  proved  his  activity  by 
making  his  purchases  at  Manchester 
and  dispatching  them  by  the  vessel  in 
which  he  sailed,  which  returned  to 
Boston  within  eighty-four  days  of  her 
departure — a  most  -fortunate  venture, 
for  the  goods  were  sold  in  a  week  at 
enormous  profits.    "  You  are  as  famous 
among  your  acquaintances  here,"  wrote 
Amos,  "  for  the  rapidity  of  your  move-  . 

ments,  as  Bonaparte.    Mr.  thinks 

that  you  leave  Bonaparte  entirely  in 
the  background.  I  really  feel  a  little 
proud,  my  dear  brother,  of  your  con- 
duct. Few  instances  of  like  dispatch 
are  known." 

Mr.  Lawi^ence  continued  for  some 
time  in  England,  and  we  have  letters 
to  him  in  his  brother's  correspondence 
of  various  dates,  as  he  more  than  once 


112 


ABBOTT  LAWRENCE. 


visited  that  country  on  these  business 
missions.  The  affairs  of  the  house  pro- 
spered, and  numerous  expressions  of 
thankfulness  are  recorded  in  the  diary 
of  Amos  as  the  fortunes  of  the  partners 
increased.  In  1819  Abbott  was  mar- 
ried to  the  daughter  of  the  Hon.  Timo- 
thy Bigelow,  a  lawyer  of  high  standing 
in  Medford.  He  had  been  acquainted 
with  the  lady  from  his  youth.  In 
1821  his  brother  was  elected  to  the 
Massachusetts  legislature,  and  about 
the  same  time  began  to  engage  in  those 
manufacturing  pursuits  with  which  he 
afterward  became  so  greatly  identified. 

Of  these  occupations  the  Hon.  Ed- 
ward Everett  writes,  in  a  notice  of  the 
life  of  Abbott  Lawrence  published  in 
his  writings  :  "  He  very  early  took  an 
interest  in  American  manufactures.  At 
a  time  when  the  merchants  "of  the 
United  States  generally  looked  with 
indiiference,  if  not  with  distrust,  upon 
the  attempt  to  compete  with  the  fabrics 
of  Europe,  Mr.  Lawrence  took  a  dif- 
ferent view  of  the  subject,  not  from 
selfish  motives,  for  his  interests  at  that 
time  were  rather  in  the  channels  of 
trade.  But  he  felt  the  importance  of 
diversifying  the  pursuits  of  a  commu- 
nity, in  order  to  the  full  development 
of  the  endless  variety  of  its  talent. 
He  calculated  much  on  the  indomita- 
ble energy  of  the  American  mind,  and 
the  matchless  skill  of  the  American 
hand.  He  saw  with  impatience  the 
vast  water-power  with  which  Provi- 
dence has  endowed  the  country  run- 
ning to  waste — a  water-power  equal  in 
the  aggregate  to  the  whole  steam-power 
of  Great  Britain.  He  regarded  it  as  a 
practical  absurdity  of  the  grossest  kind 


to  consume  coarse  tissues  made  of  the 
cotton  of  India,  and  sold  here  at  twice 
and  thiice  the  cost  for  which  a  vastly 
better  article  could  be  made  from  the 
product  of  our  own  soil ;  and  he  consi- 
dered it  but  little  less  improvident  to 
send  our  cotton  and  our  wool  to  Eu- 
rope, in  order  to  employ  foreign  labor 
in  converting  them  into  cloth  for  our 
own  consumption.    On  the  contrary, 
he  saw  benefits  far  beyond  those  of  a 
pecuniary  nature,  in  building  up  a 
great   manufacturing    system,  which 
should  bring  the  raw  material  of  the 
South  and  the  capital  and  manufactur- 
ing skill  of  the  North  into  a  mutually 
beneficial  connection.    "When  he  came 
forward  into  life,  India  cottons  of  a 
coarser  and  flimsier  texture  than  any- 
thing that  has  ever  been  seen  in  this 
country  by  any  man  under  thirty-five 
years  of  age,  were  sold  in  this  market 
at  retail  for  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  a 
yard.    Every  attempt  to  manufacture 
a  better  article  was  crushed  by  foreign 
competition,  acting  upon  imperfect  ma- 
chinery, want  of  skill  incident  to  a 
novel  enterprise,  and  the  reluctance  of 
capital  to  seek  new  and  experimental 
investments.^    "We  are  now,  without 
any  diminution  of  our  agriculture  and 
navigation,  but  on  the  contrary  with  a 
large  increase  of  both,  the  second  man- 
ufacturing country  in  the  world.  The 
rising  city  which  bears  his  name,  on 
the  beautiful  banks  of  the  Merrimac, 
will  carry  down  to  posterity  no  unwor- 
thy memorial  of  his  participation  in 
this  auspicious  work." 

In  accordance  with  these  views  Mr. 


'  Everett's  Orations  and  Speeches,  III.  367-8,  375-6. 


ABBOTT  L 

LaTvrence  was  a  delegate  to  the  Har- 
rislnir"-  Convention  of  1827,  called  to 
promote  the  maniifocturing  interests  of 
the  country.  In  1834  he  was  elected 
to  the  national  House  of  Representa- 
tives, Avhere  he  was  placed  on  the  Com- 
mittee of  Ways  and  Means.  He  de- 
clined reelection,  but  was  induced  to 
serve  again  a  few  years  later,  when  a 
severe  attack  of  typhus  fever  at  Wash- 
ington compelled  him  to  resign  his 
seat  and  return  home.^  He  was  at  this 
time  and  subsequently,  looked  upon, 
from  his  wealth  and  position,  as  an  in- 
fluential man  in  public  affairs,  of  the 
whig  politics  of  the  school  of  Henry 
Clay.  He  was  also  of  course  an  ear- 
nest cooperator  with  Daniel  Webster, 
at  whose  suggestion  he  received  the 
appointment  of  commissioner  on  behalf 
of  Massachusetts  to  negotiate  with 
Lord  Ashburton  on  the  settlement  of 
the  eastern  boundary  question. 

Beside  his  activity  in  the  cause  of 
manufactures,  he  was  early  an  earnest 
advocate  of  the  system  of  railways  con- 
necting Boston  with  the  great  West. 
Mr.  Everett  records  his  fulfilled  pro- 
phecy of  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago — 
an  age  in  these  matters — "  We  shall 
live  to  see  the  banks  of  the  upper  Mis- 
sissippi connected  by  iron  bands  with 
State  street."  The  main  intei-est,  how- 
ever, with  which  his  name  will  be 
identified,  for  it  belongs  more  peculiar- 
ly to  his  own  liberality,  without  any 
of  that  odor  of  gain  which  attaches  to 
the  material  questions  of  manufactures 
and  railway  improvements,  is  the  cause 
of  education.    His  establishment  of  the 

'  Memoir  of  Hon.  Abbott  Lawrence,  in  New  Encrland 
Historical  and  Genealogical  Register,  Oct.,  1856. 


A  WRENCH.  113 

La-wrence  Scientific  School  at  Cam- 
bridge, by  a  donation  in  184*7  of  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  a  sum  which  he  after- 
wards doubled,  was  the  crowning  act 
of  his  life.  It  was  so  felt  by  his  bro- 
ther Amos,  himself  distinguished  by 
his  charities  and  various  similar  acts  of 
philanthropy  to  schools  and  colleges. 
It  was  beginning  at  the  root  of  the  ma- 
terial prosperity  of  the  country ;  for  he 
had  the  sagacity  to  perceive  that  ideas 
were  before  facts,  and  that  the  devel- 
opment of  railways  and  manufactures, 
of  trade  and  commerce,  of  agriculture, 
of  arts  and  mechanics,  depended  in  the 
first  place  upon  scientific  education. 
That  men  might  be  properly  trained  and 
educated  at  home,  was  an  application 
of  the  protective  system  which  no  theo- 
rists of  political  economy  could  oppose, 
and  no  school  of  statesmen  gainsay. 

On  his  making  the  donation  creating 
this  splendid  foundation,  his  brother 
Amos  addressed  him — "  I  hardly  dare 
trust  myself  to  speak  what  I  feel,  and 
therefore  write  a  word  to  say  that  I 
thank  God  I  am  spared  to  this  day  to 
see  accomplished  by  one  so  near  and 
dear  to  me,  this  last  best  work  ever 
done  by  one  of  our  name,  which  will 
prove  a  better  title  to  true  nobility 
than  any  from  the  potentates  of  the 
world.  It  is  to  impress  on  unborn 
millions  the  great  truth  that  our  talents 
are  trusts  committed  to  us  for  use,  and 
to  be  accounted  for  when  the  Master 
calls.  ...  It  enriches  your  descendants 
in  a  way  that  mere  money  never  can 
do,  and  is  a  better  investment  than  any 
one  you  have  ever  yet  made."  ^  He 

^  Letter  June  9,  184? ;  Diary  and  Correspondence, 
p.  244-5. 


114 


ABBOTT  LAWRENCE. 


also  wrote  to  a  friend :  "  This  noble  plan 
is  worthy  of  him  ;  and  I  can  say  truly 
to  you,  that  I  feel  enlarged  by  his 
doing  it.  Instead  of  our  sons  going  to 
France  and  other  foreign  lands  for  in- 
struction, here  will  be  a  place,  second 
to  no  other  on  earth,  for  such  teach- 
ing as  our  country  stands  now  in  abso- 
lute need  of.  Here,  at  this  moment,  it 
is  not  in  the  power  of  the  great  railroad 
companies  to  secure  a  competent  engi- 
neer to  carry  forward  their  work,  so 
much  are  the  services  of  such  men  in 
demand." 

Mr.  Lawrence  will  be  remembered 
in  public  life  by  his  mission  to  Eng- 
land.   It  arose  out  of  his  participation 
in  the  political  movements  which  re- 
sulted in  the  election  of  General  Taylor 
to  the  Presidency.    He  was  looted 
upon  in  fact  as  a  prominent  candidate 
in  that  nomination  for  the  Vice  Presi- 
dency ;  but  the  choice  falling  on  Mr. 
Fillmore,  Mr.  Lawrence,  on  the  organ- 
ization of  the  new  administration,  was 
offered  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet.    This  he 
declined,  when  he  received,  in  1849, 
the  mission  to  England — a  position 
weU  suited  to  his  wealth,  the  associa- 
tions of  his  life  and  his  desire  for  hon- 
orable public  employment.    Mr.  Ever- 
ett preserves  a  characteristic  anecdote 
of  his  state  of  mind  on  receiving  this 
appointment.    The  minister  elect  to  the 
court  of  St.  James,  in  his  miscellaneous 
reading  had  met  with  the  famous  wit- 
ticism of  that  well-trained  diplomatist, 
Sir  Henry  "Wotton,  an  Englishman  of 
the  politic  days  of  King  J ames  I.,  that  an 
ambassador  was  an  excellent  man  sent 
to  lie  abroad  for  the  good  of  his  coun- 
try.   Half  in  jest  we  may  presume,  but 


quite  in  earnest  as  to  the  point  of  mor- 
ality involved,  Mr.  Lam*ence  asked 
Everett — "  Whether  there  was  any  real 
foundation  in  truth  for  this  ancient 
epigrammatic  jest — for  if  that  was  the 
case,  his  mind  was  made  up ;  he  had 
never  yet  told  a  lie,  and  was  not  going 
to  begin  at  the  age  of  fifty-six."  To 
which  Mr.  Everett  replied  that  he 
could  answer  for  himself  as  a  foreign 
minister;  that  he  had  never  said  a 
word  or  written  a  line,  which,  as  far  as 
his  own  character  or  that  of  his  govern- 
ment was  concerned,  he  should  have 
been  unwilling  to  see  in  the  newspa- 
pers the  next  day." 

Mr.  Lawrence  discharged  the  duties 
of  his  mission  faithfully  to  his  country, 
and  acceptably  to  Americans  abroad 
and  to  his  English  friends  for  three 
years,  when  he  returned  to  America  in 
time  to  attend  the  funeral,  at  Marshfield, 
of  his  illustrious  friend,  Daniel  Web- 
ster,   This  event  was  followed  soon 
after  by  the  death  of  his  brother,  Amos 
Lawrence,  the  last  day  of  December, 
1852.    He  was  himself  destined  not 
long  to  survive.    Less  than  three  years 
of  life  remained  to  him,  which,  like  his 
preceding  course,  were  distinguished 
by  acts  of  useful  charity.    He  died  on 
the  18th  of  August,  1855,  at  the  age 
of  sixty-three,  closing  a  career  of  emi- 
nent worth  and  usefulness,  illustrating 
many  of  the  noblest  virtues  of  the  mer- 
cantile character.    Exact,  conscientious, 
enterprising,  his  generosity  and  public 
spirit  kept  pace  with  his  wealth.  Nor 
were  the  charities  of  himself  and  his 
brother  confined  to  public  acts.  They 
were  governed  by  religious  principle, 
and  sought  as  well  the  secrecy  of  pri- 


ABBOTT  LAWRENCE. 


115 


vate  life.  In  addition  to  a  second  sum 
of  fifty  tliousand  dollars,  to  tlie  Scienti- 
fic School  of  Harvard,  Mr.  Abbott  Law- 
rence beqneatlied  ten  thousand  dollars 
to  the  Boston  Pul)lic  Library,  and  five 
thousand  dollars  to  the  Fi-anklin  Libra- 
ry Association  in  Lawrence,  beside 
various  large  religious  grants.  Nor 
must  an  enlightened  foundation  be  for- 
gotten, of  a  fund  of  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars, the  income  of  which  was  to  be  ap- 
projDriated  for  the  erection  of  model 
lodging-houses  for  the  poor  of  Boston. 
He  left  also  upwards  of  seventy  thou- 
sand dollars  in  private  bequests  outside 
of  his  family. 

Of  his  personal  character  and  domes- 
tic life,  we  are  told  by  Mr.  Everett 
that  "  though  not  professedly  a  man  of 
letters,  Mr. 'Lawrence  had  found  time, 
in  the  intervals  of  business,  for  the  ac- 
quisition of  a  great  amount  of  miscella- 
neous knowledge,  by  a  judicious  course 
of  reading.  His  home  was  filled  with 
books,  paintings  and  works  of  art ;  his 
conversation  was  at  all  times  intelli- 


gent and  instructive  ;  his  appreciation 
of  liberal  pursuits,  ;prompt  and  cordial. 
In  manner  he  was  eminently  courteous 
and  affable.  His  kindly  disposition 
found  constant  expression  in  a  beaming 
smile,  in  tones  and  words  and  acts  of 
cheerfulness,  in  unaffected  sympathy 
with  those  around  him.  His  purse,  his 
advice,  his  encouraging  voice  were  ever 
at  the  command  of  modest  worth.  His 
house  was  the  stranger's  home;  his 
fireside  the  resort  of  friendship.  Unos- 
tentatious hospitality  was  the  presiding 
genius  within  his  doors.  Gloom  and 
austerity  were  strangers  to  his  counte- 
nance. He  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of 
good  will;  not  a  languid  sentiment, 
still  less  an  empty  profession  ;  but  sub- 
stantial, eflfective  good  will,  manifested 
in  deeds  of  beneficence.  It  might  be 
said  of  him,  as  it  was  said  of  his  bro- 
ther Amos,  that  "  every  day  of  his  life 
was  a  blessing  to  some  one."  ^ 


'  Obituary  of  Abbott  Lawrence  in  the  Boston  Daily 
Advertiser,  Aug.  20,  1855. 


ANDREW 


JACKSON. 


Few  of  tlie  eminent  men  of  America, 
whose  acts  are  recorded  in  these  pages, 
entered  upon  the  public  stage  so  early 
and  continued  on  it  so  late,  as  the  sub- 
ject of  this  sketch.  To  no  one  but  him- 
self was  it  reserved  to  bridge  over  so 
completely  the  era  of  the  Revolution 
with  the  latest  phase  of  political  life  in 
our  day.  The  youth  who  had  suffered 
wounds  and  imprisonment  at  the  hands 
of  a  British  officer  in  the  war  of  Inde- 
pendence, was  destined  long  after,  when 
a  whole  generation  had  left  the  stage, 
to  close  a  second  war  with .  that  power- 
ful nation  by  a  triumphant  victory ; 
and  when  the  fresh  memory  of  that 
had  passed  away,  and  men  were  read- 
ing the  record  in  history,  the  same  hero, 
raised  to  the  highest  honor  of  the  State, 
was  to  stand  forth,  not  simply  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  but  the  ac- 
tive representative  of  a  new  order  of 
politics,  reaping  a  new  harvest  of  favor 
in  civil  administration,  which  would 
throw  his  military  glory  into  the  shade. 
Nor  was  this  all.  These  comprehen- 
sive associations,  much  as  they  include, 
leave  out  of  view  an  entirely  distinct 
phase  of  the  wonderful  career  of  this 
extraordinary  man.  A  rude  pioneer 
of  the  wilderness,  he  opened  the  path- 
way of  civilization  to  his  countrymen, 
and  by  his  valor  in  a  series  of  bloody 

116 


Indian  wars,  made  the  terrors  of  that 
formidable  race  a  matter  of  tradition 
in  lands  which  he  lived  to  see  bloom- 
ino^  with  culture  and  refinement.  A 
hero  in  his  boyhood,  when  Greene  was 
leading  his  southern  army  to  the  relief 
of  the  Carolinas,  he  was  in  Congress  the 
first  representative  of  a  new  State,  when 
Washington  was  President;  and  when 
the  successors  of  that  chieftain,  Adams 
and  Jefferson,  had  at  length  disappeared 
from  the  earthly  scene  in  extreme  old 
age,  he,  a  man  more  of  the  future  than 
the  past,  sat  in  the  same  great  seat  of 
authority,  Avith  an  influence  not  inferior 
to  theirs.  Surrounded  by  these  circum- 
stances, in  the  rapid  development  of 
national  life,  in  the  infancy  and  prog- 
ress of  the  country,  if  he  had  been  a 
common  man  he  would  have  acquired 
distinction  from  his  position ;  but  it 
was  his  character  to  form  circumstances 
as  well  as  profit  by  them.  There  are 
few  cases  in  all  history  where,  under 
adverse  conditions,  the  man  was  so 
master  of  fortune.  The  simplest  recital 
of  his  life  carries  with  it  an  air  almost 
of  romance;  his  success  mocked  the 
wisdom  of  his  contemporaries,  and  will 
tax  the  best  powers  of  the  future  histo- 
rians of  America  in  its  analysis. 

Andrew  Jackson  was  of  Irish  parent- 
age.   His  father,  of  the  same  name,  be- 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


117 


longed  to  a  Protestant  fiimily  in  humble 
life,  •wliicli  had  been  long  settled  at 
Cari'iekfergiis,  in  the  north  of  Ireland, 
whence  he  broiio-ht  his  wife  and  two 
children  to  America,  in  17G5,  They 
were  landed  at  Charleston,  Soiith  Caro- 
lina, and  proceeded  at  once  to  the  up- 
per region  of  the  country,  on  the  Ca- 
tawba, known  as  the  Waxhaw  settle- 
ment.   They  came  as  poor  emigrants 
to  share  the  labors  of  their  friends  and 
countrymen  who  were  settled  in  the 
district.    Andrew  Jackson,  the  elder, 
began  his  toilsome  work  in  clearing  the 
land  on  his  plot  at  Twelve  Mile  Creek, 
a  branch  of  the  Catawb.a,  in  what  is 
now  known  as  Union  County,  North 
Carolina,  but  had  barely  established 
himself  by  two  years'  labor  when  he 
died,  leaving  his  widow  to  seek  a  re- 
fuge with  her  brother-in-law  in  the 
neighborhood.    A  few  days  after  her 
husband's  death,  on  the  15th  March, 
1707,  she  brought  forth  a  third  son, 
Andrew,  of  \^'hose  life  we  are  to  give 
an  account.    The  father  having  left 
little,  if  any,  means  of  support  for  his 
family,  the  mother  found  a  permanent 
home  with  another  brother-in-law  named 
Crawford,  who  resided  on  a  farm  just 
over  the  border  in  South  Carolina. 
There  the  boyhood  of  Jackson  was 
passed  in  the  pursuits  incident  to  youth, 
in  frontier  agricultural  life.    His  phy- 
sical powers  were  developed  by  healthy 
sports  and  exercise,  and  his  mind  re- 
ceived some  culture  in  the  humble  ru- 
diments of  education  in  the  limited 
schooling  of  the  region.    It  is  probable 
that  something  better  was  intended  for 
him  than  for  most  of  the  boys  in  his 
,  osition,  since  we  hear  of  his  being  at 


an  Academy  at  Charlotte,  and  of  his 
mother's  design  to  pVepare  him  for  the 
calling  of  a  Presbyterian  clergyman. 
Such,  indeed,  might  well  have  been  his 
prospects,  for  he  had  a  nature  capable 
of  the  service,  had  not  the  war  of  the 
Revolution,  now  breaking  out  afresh 
in  the  South,  carried  him  in  quite  a 
different  direction. 

In  1779  came  the  invasion  of  South 
Carolina,  the  ruthless  expedition  of  Pre- 
vost  along  the  seaboard  preceding  the 
arrival  of  Clinton,  and  the  fall  of  Charles- 
ton.   The  latter  event  occurred  in  May 
of  the  following  year,  and  Cornwallis 
was  free  to  carry  out  his  plan  for  the 
subjugation  of  the  country.  Sending 
Tarleton  before  him,  the  very  month 
of  the  surrender  of  the  city,  the  war  of 
devastation  was  carried  to  the  border 
of  the  State,  to  the  very  home  of  Jack- 
son.   The  action  at  the  Waxhaws  was 
one  of  the  bloodiest  in  a  series  of  bloody 
campaigns,  which  ended,  only  with  the 
final  termination  of  hostilities.    It  was 
a  massacre  rather  than  a  battle,  as  Ame- 
rican  blood  was  poured   forth  like 
water.    The  mangled  bodies  of  the 
wounded  were  brought  into  the  church 
of  the  settlement,  where  the  mother  of 
the  young  Jackson,  then  a  boy  of  thir- 
teen, with  himself  and  brother — he  had 
but  one  now,  Hugh  having  already 
joined  the  patriots  and  fallen  in  the 
affair  at  Stono — attended  the  sick  and 
dying.    That  "  gory  bed  "  of  war,  con- 
secrated by  the  spot  where  his  father 
had  worshipped,  and  near  which  he  re- 
posed in  lasting  sleep,  summoned  the 
boy  to  his  baptism  of  blood.    He  was 
not  the  one  to  shrink  from  the  encoun- 
ter.   We  accordingly  find  him  on  hand 


118 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


at  Sumter's  attack,  in  the  following 
August,  on  the  enemy's  post  at  Hang- 
ing Rock,  accompanying  Major  Davies' 
North   Carolina  troop  to  the  fight, 
though  he  does  not  appear  to  have  en- 
gaged in  the  battle.    A  few  days  after, 
Gates  was  defeated  at  Camden,  and 
Mrs.  Jackson  and  her  children  fled  be- 
fore the  storm  of  war  to  a  refuge  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  district.    The  es- 
cape was  but  temporary,  for,  on  her  re- 
turn in  the   spring,  her  boys  were 
entangled,  as  they  could  not  well  fail 
to  be  in  that  region,  in  the  desultory, 
seldom  long  intermitted  partisan  war- 
fare which  afflicted  the  Carolinas.  In 
the  preparation  for  one  of  the  frequent 
skirmishes  between  Whig  and  Tory, 
the  two  brothers  were  surprised,  es- 
caped in  flight,  were  betrayed  and  cap- 
tured.   It  was  on  this  occasion  that  the 
scene,  often  narrated,  occurred,  of  the 
indignity  offered  by  the  British  officer, 
met  by  the  spirited  resistance  of  the 
youth.    Andrew  was  ordered  by  the 
officer,  in  no  gentle  tone,  to  clean  his 
boots.    He  refused  jDeremptorily,  plead- 
ing his  rights  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  an 
argument  which  brought  down  a  re- 
joinder in  a  swprd- thrust  on  head  and 
arm  raised  for  protection,  the  marks  of 
which  the  old  hero  bore  to  his  last  day. 
A  similar  wound,  at  the  same  time,  for 
a  like  offence,  was  the  cause  of  his  bro- 
ther's death.    Their  imprisonment  at 
Camden   was    most   cruel ;  severely 
wounded,  without  medicine  or  care, 
with  but  little  food,  exposed  to  conta- 
gion, they  were  brought  forth  by  their 
mother,  who  followed  them  and  man- 
aged their  exchange.    Few  scenes  of 
war  can  be  fancied,  more  truly  heroic 


and  pitiful  than  the  picture  presented 
by  Mr.  Parton,  in  his  faithful  biogra- 
phy of  this  earnest,  afflicted,  patriotic 
mother  receiving  her  boys  from  the 
dunsceon,  "  astonished  and  horrified  "  at 
their  worn,  wasted  appearance.  The 
elder  was  so  ill  as  not  to  be  able  to  sit 
on  horseback  without  help,  and  there 
was  no  place  for  them  in  those  troubled 
times  but  their  distant  home.    It  was 
forty  miles  away.    Two  horses,  with 
difficulty  we  may  suppose,  were  pro- 
cured.   "  One  she  rode  herself  Robert 
was  placed  on  the  other,  and  held  in 
his  seat  by  the  returning  prisoners,  to 
whom  his  devoted  mother  had  just 
given  liberty.    Behind  the  sad  proces- 
sion, poor  Andrew  dragged  his  weak 
and  weary  limbs,  bareheaded,  barefoot- 
ed, without  a  jacket."    Before  the  long 
journey   was  thus  painfully  accom- 
plished, "  a  chilly,  drenching,  merciless 
rain "  set  in,  to  add  to  its  hardships. 
Two  days  after,  Robert  died,  and  An- 
drew was,  happily,  perhaps,  insensible 
to  the  event  in  the  delirium  of  the 
small  pox,  which  he  had  contracted  in 
prison.    What  will  not  woman  under- 
take of  heroic  charity  ?    This  mother 
of  Andrew  Jackson  had  no  sooner  seen 
her  surviving  boy  recovered  by  her 
care,  than  she  set  off  with  two  other  ma- 
trons, on  foot,  traversing  the  long  dis- 
tance to  Charleston  to  carry  aid  and 
consolation  to  her  nephews  and  friends 
immured  in  the  deadly  prison-ships  in 
the  harbor.    She  accomplished  her  er- 
rand, but  died  almost  in  its  execution, 
falling  ill  of  the  ship  fever  at  the  house 
of  a  relative  ia  the  vicinity  of  the  city. 
Thus  sank  into  her  martyr's  grave,  this 
woman,  worthy  to  be  the  mother  of  a 


ANDREW 

hero,  leaving  her  son  Andrew,  "  before 
reaching  his  fifteenth  birth-day,  an  or- 
phan ;  a  sick  and  sorrowful  orphan, 
a  homeless  and  dependent  orphan,  an 
orphan  of  the  Kevolution."  ^ 

The  youth  remained  with  one  of  the 
Cra^^dbrds  till  a  quarrel  with  an  Ame- 
rican conftuissary  in  the  house — this 
lad  of  spirit  would  take  indignity  nei- 
ther from  friend  nor  foe — drove  him  to 
another  relative,  whose  son  being  in 
the  saddler's  trade,  led  him  to  some 
six  months'  eno-as^ement  in  this  mecha- 
nical  pursuit.  This  was  followed  by  a 
somewhat  easier  enlistment  in  the  wild 
youthful  sports  or  dissipations  of  the  day, 
such  as  cockfighting,  racing  and  gamb- 
ling, which  might  have  wrecked  a  less  re- 
solute victim;  but  his  strength  to  get  out 
of  this  dangerous  current  was  happily 
superior  to  the  force  which  impelled 
him  into  it,  and  he  escaped.  He  even 
took  to  study  and  became  a  schoolmas- 
ter, not  over  competent  in  some  re- 
spects, but  fully  capable  of  imparting 
what  he  had  learnt  in  the  rude  old 
field  schools  of  the  time.  We  doubt 
not  he  put  energy  into  the  vocables, 
as  the  row  of  urchins  stood  before  him, 
and  energy,  like  the  orator's  action,  is 
more  than  books  to  a  schoolmaster. 

A  year  or  two  spent  in  this  way, 
not  without  some  pecuniary  profit, 
put  him  on  the  track  of  the  law,  for 
which  there  is  always  an  opening  in 
the  business  arising  from  the  unsettled 
land  titles  of  a  new  country,  to  say  no- 

'  Pnrton's  Life  of  Jackson,  I.  95.  We  may  here  make 
a  general  acknowledgment  for  the  aid  we  have  received 
in  this  sketch  from  Mr.  Parton's  exhaustive  narrative. 
He  has  fur  exceeded  all  previous  biographers  in  the  dili- 
gence of  his  investigations,  and  those  who  write  after 
him  of  Jackson  must  needs  follow  iu  his  steps. 


JACKSON.  119 

thing  of  those  personal  strifes  and  tra- 
ditions which  follow  man  wherever  he 
goes.  The  youth — he  was  yet  hardly 
eighteen — accordingly  offered  himself 
to  the  most  eminent  counsel  in  the  re- 
gion— that  is,  within  a  hundred  miles 
or  so — alighting  at  the  law  office  of  Mr. 
Spence  McCay,  a  man  of  note  at  Salis- 
bury, North  Carolina.  There  he  passed 
1785  and  the  following  year,  studying 
probably  more  than  he  has  had  credit 
for,  his  reputation  as  a  gay  young  fel- 
low of  the  town  being  better  remem- 
bered, as  is  natural,  than  his  ordinary 
office  routine.  He  had  also  the  legal 
instructions  of  an  old  warrior  of  the 
Revolution,  brave  Colonel  Stokes,  a 
good  lawyer  and  mixture  of  the  soldier 
and  civilian,  who  must  have  been  quite 
to  Andrew  Jackson's  taste.  Thus  for- 
tified, with  the  moderate  amount  of 
learning  due  his  profession  in  those 
days,  he  was  licensed  and  began  the 
practice  of  the  law. 

His  biographer,  Mr.  Parton,  pleased 
with  havino-  brousjht  him  thus  far 
successfully  on  the  stage  of  life,  stops 
to  contemplate  his  subject  at  full 
length.  His  points  may  be  thus 
summed  up  :  "  A  tall  fellow,  six  feet 
and  an  inch  in  his  stockings ;  slender, 
but  graceful  ;  far  from  handsome, 
with,  a  long,  thin,  fair  face,  a  high 
and  narrow  forehead,  abundant,  red- 
dish-sandy hair,  falling  low  over  it — 
hair  not  yet  elevated  to  the  bristling 
aspect  of  later  days — eyes  of  a  deep 
blue,  brilliant  when  aroused,  a  bold 
rider,  a  capital  shot." 

As  for  the  moral  qualities  which  he 
adds  to  these  physical  traits,  the  pru- 
dence  associated   with   courage  and 


120 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


"tliat  omnipotent  something- whicli  we 
call  a  presence,"  wliicli  faithful  Kent 
saw  in  his  old  discrowned  monarch 
Lear,  as  an  appeal  to  service  and 
named  "  authority," — it  is  time  enough 
to  make  these  reflections  when  the  man 
shall  have  proved  them  by  his  actions. 
He  will  have  opportunity  enough. 

After  getting  his  '.'  law,"  the  young 
advocate  took  a  turn  in  the  miscella- 
neous pursuits  of  the  West,  as  a  store- 
keeper at  Martinsville,  in  Guildford 
County,  keeping  up  his  connection 
with  his  profession,  it  is  reported,  by 
performing  the  executive  duties  of  a 
constable.  He  has  now  reached  the 
age  of  twenty-one,  when  he  may  be 
said  fairly  to  have  entered  upon  his 
career,  as  he  received  the  appointment 
of  solicitor  or  public  prosecutor  in  the 
western  district  of  North  Carolina,  the 
present  Tennessee.  This  carried  him 
to  Nashville,  then  a  perilous  journey 
through  an  unsettled  country,  filled 
with  hostile  Indians.  He  arrived  at 
this  seat  of  his  future  home,  whence  his 
country  was  often  to  summon  him  in  her 
hour  of  need,  in  October,  1788,  and  en- 
tered at  once  vigorously  on  the  practice 
of  his  profession,  which  was  very  much 
an  off-hand,  extempore  affair,  requiring 
activity  and  resolution  more  than  learn- 
ing, especially  in  the  main  duties  of  his 
office  as  collector  of  debts.  A  large 
extent  of  country  was  to  be  traversed 
in  his  circuits  of  the  wilderness,  on 
which  it  was  quite  as  important  to  be 
a  good  woodman  as  a  well-informed 
jui-ist.  Indeed,  there  was  more  fear  of 
the  Indian  than  of  the  Opposite  Coun- 
sel. Jackson  had  the  confidence  of  the 
mercantile  community  bejiind  him,  and 


discharged  his  duties  so  efficiently,  and 
withal  was  so  provident  of  the  future 
which  his  keen  eye  foresaw,  that  he 
prospered  in  his  fortunes,  and  in  a  few 
years  became  a  considerable  landed, 
proprietor. 

In  1*791  an  event  occurred  which  be- 
came subsequently  a  matter  of  frequent 
discussion,  and  which  certainly  re- 
quired some  explanation.  Andrew 
Jackson  married  at  Natchez,  on  the 
Mississippi,  Mrs.  Robards,  at  the  time 
not  fully  divorced  from  her  husband, 
though  both  Jackson  and  the  lady  be- 
lieved the  divorce  had  been  pronounced. 
The  error,  after  the  sifting  which  the 
affair  received  when  it  became  a  ground 
of  party  attack,  and  the  blazing  light 
of  a  Presidential  canvass  was  thrown 
upon  it,  is  easily  accounted  for.  The 
circumstances  of  the  case  may  be  thus 
briefly  narrated  :  A  Colonel  Donelson, 
one  of  the  founders  of  Nashville, 
brought  with  him  to  that  settlement, 
not  many  years  before,  his  daughter 
Rachel,  who  at  the  time  of  Jackson's 
arrival  was  married  to  a  Mr.  Robards, 
of  Kentucky.  The  young  "  solicitor  " 
found  the  pair  living  with  the  lady's 
mother,  Mrs.  Donelson,  in  whose  house 
Jackson  became  an  inmate.  Robards 
appears  to  have  been  of  a  jealous  tem- 
perament, and  moreover  of  unsettled 
habits  of  living.  At  any  rate,  he  had 
his  home  apart  from  his  wife,  and  we 
presently  find  him,  in  the  second  win- 
ter after  Jackson's  arrival,  applying  as 
a  Kentuckian,  to  the  Virginia  legisla- 
ture for  a  divorce.  He  procured  ^n  or- 
der for  the  preliminary  proceedings, 
which  were  understood,  or  rather  misun- 
derstood by  the  people  of  Tennessee,  as 


ANDREW 

an  antlioritative  separation.  With  tliis 
view  of  the  matter,  as  the  expLanation 
is  given,  the  marriage  took  pLace.  The 
divorce  Avas  legally  completed  in  17'. '3. 
Wl^^n  Jackson  then  learnt  the  tiue 
state  of  the  case  he  had  the  marriao-e 
ceremony  performed  a  second  time. 
During  the  whole  of  the  affair  from 
the  beginning,  though  he  acted  as  a 
friend  of  the  lady,  he  appears  to  have 
conducted  himself  toward  her  with  the 
greatest  propriety.  Indeed,  a  certain 
innate  sense  of  delicacy  and  pure  chi- 
valrous feeling  toward  woman,  was  al- 
ways a  distinctive  trait  of  Jiis  character. 
It  was  constantly  noticed  by  those 
most  intimate  with  him,  as  a  remarka- 
ble characteristic,  in  a  man  roughly 
taking  his  share  in  the  wild  pursuits 
and  dissipations  of  the  day.  He  was 
no  doubt  early  an  admirer  of  the  lady, 
whose  gay,  spirited  qualities  and  ad- 
venturous pioneer  life  were  likely  to 
fascinate  such  a  man,  and  made  no 
secret  of  his  contempt  for  the  husband, 
threatening  on  one  occasion,  when  he 
was  pestered  by  his  jealousies,  to  cut 
out  his  ears.  The  story  of  his  marriage 
was  of  course  variously  interpreted,  but 
he  allowed  no  doubtful  intimations  of 
the  matter  in  his  presence.  It  was  a 
duel  or  war  to  the  knife  when  any  hes- 
itation on  that  subject  was  brought  to 
his  hearing. 

The  region  into  which  Jackson  had 
emigrated,  having  passed  through  its 
territorial  •  period,  when  the  solicitor 
became  attorney  general,  reached  its 
majority  in  a  State  name  and  govern- 
ment of  its  own  in  1796.  He  was 
one  of  the  delegates  to  the  convention 
al  Knoxville,  which  formed  the  consti- ' 


•  JACKSON.  121 

tution  of  Tennessee,  and  one  of  the  two 
members  of  each  county,,  to  whom  was 
intrusted  the  drafting  of  tliat  instru 
ment.  When  the  State  was  admitted 
into  the  Union,  Andrew  Jackson  was 
chosen  its  first,  and,  at  that  time,  only 
representative  to  Congress.  He  took 
his  seat  at  the  beginning  of  the  session, 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  and  was  con- 
sequently present  to  receive  the  last 
opening  message  of  George  Washing- 
ton, it  being  usual  in  those  days  for 
the  President  to  meet  both  houses  to- 
gether at  the  commencement  of  their 
sitting,  and  deliver  his  speech  in  per 
son — what  is  now  the  President's  mes- 
sage. In  like  manner,  according  to  the 
usage  of  the  English  Parliament,  a  re- 
ply was  prepared  and  voted  upon  by 
each  house,  which  was  carried  in  per- 
son by  the  members  to  the  President's 
mansion.  The  reply,  in  this  instance, 
proposed  in  the  House  of  Eepresenta- 
tives  by  the  Federalist  committee,  was 
thought  too  full  an  indorsement  of  the 
policy  of  the  administration,  and  met 
with  some  opposition  from  the  Repub- 
lican minority,  Andrew  Jackson  ap- 
pearing as  one  of  twelve,  by  the  side 
of  Edward  Livingston,  and  William  B. 
Giles,  of  Virginia,  voting  against  it.  He 
did  not  speak  on  the  question,  and  his 
vote  may  be  regarded  simply  indi- 
cation of  his  party  sentiments,  though, 
had  he  been  an  ardent  admirer  of  Wash- 
ington, he  might,  spite  of  his  Tennessee 
politics,  have  voted  with  Gallatin  for 
the  original  address.  That  he  did  not, 
does  not  imply  necessarily  any  disaffec- 
tion to  W ashington  ;  but  there  was  pro- 
bably little  of  personal  feeling  in  the 
matter  to  be  looked  for  from  him.  The 


122  ANDREW 

independent  life  of  tlie  Sontli  and  West 
had  never  leaned,  as  tlie  heart  of  tlie 
Eastern  and  Atlantic  regions,  upon  the 
right  arm  of  "Washington.  The  only' 
question  upon  which  he  spoke  during 
the  session  was  in  favor  of  assuming 
certain  expenses  incurred  in  an  Indian 
expedition  in  his  adopted  State ;  and 
the  resolution  which  he  advocated  was 
adopted.  His  votes  are  recorded  in 
favor  of  appropriations  for  the  navy, 
and  against  the  black  mail  paid  to  Al- 
giers. His  success  in  the  Indian  bill 
was  well  calculated  to  please  his  con- 
stituents, and  he  was  accordingly  re- 
turned the  next  year  to  the  Senate.  It 
was  the  first  session  of  the  new  admin- 
istration, and  all  that  is  told  of  his  ap- 
pearance on  the  floor  is  the  remark  of 
Jefferson  in  his  old  age  to  Daniel 
Webster,  that  he  had  often  seen  him, 
from  his  Vice  President's  chair,  attempt 
to  speak,  and  "as  often  choke  with 
ragce."  Mr.  Parton  adds  to  this  recoUec- 
tion  the  bare  fact  that  he  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Duane  of  the  "  Au- 
rora," Aaron  Buit  and  Edward  Liv- 
ingston. He  retired  before  the  end 
of  the  session,  and  resigned  his  seat. 
Private  affairs  called  him  home ;  but 
he  could  not  have  been  well  adapt- 
ed to  senatorial  life,  or  he  did  not  like 
the  position,  else  he  would  have  man- 
aged to  retain  it.  It  was  an  honor  not 
to  be  thrown  away  lightly.by  an  ambi- 
tious young  man. 

We  next  behold  him  chosen  by  the 
legislature  a  judge  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  Tennessee — a  post,  one  would 
think,  of  severer  requisitions  tlian  that 
of  United  States  senator,  since  a  mem- 
ber of  a  legislative  body  may  give  a 


.lAOkSON. 

silent  vote  or  be  relieved  of  an  onerous 
committee,  while  the  occupant  of  the 
bench  is  continually-  called  upon  to  ex- 
ercise the  best  faculties  of  the  mind. 
It  is  to  Jackson's  credit  that  he  held 
the  position  for  six  years,  during  which, 
as  population  flowed  into  the  State  and 
interests  became  more  involved,  the 
requisitions  of  the  office  must  have 
been  continually  becoming  more  exact- 
ing. Its  duties  carried  him  to  the 
chief  towns  of  the  State,  where  he  was 
exposed  to  the  observation  of  better 
read  lawyers  than  himself.  As  no  re- 
cord Avas  kept  of  his  decisions,  we  have 
to  infer  the  manner  in  which  he  ac- 
quitted himself  from  what  we  know  of 
his  qualifications.  He  no  doubt  made 
himself  intelligible  enough  on  simple 
questions  and  decided  courageously 
and  honestly  what  he  understood  ;  but 
in  any  nice  matter  he  must  have  been 
at  fault  from  want  of  skill  in  statement, 
if  we  may  judge  of  his  talents  in  this 
respect  by  his  printed  correspondence, 
which  is  ill  spelt,  ungrammatical  and 
confused. 

His  personal  energy,  however,  doubt- 
less helped  him  on  occasion,  as  in  the 
famous  anecdote  of  his  arrest  of  Eussell 
Bean.  This  strong  villain,  infuriated 
by  his  personal  wrongs,  was  at  war 
with  society,  and  bade  defiance  to  jus- 
tice. It  was  necessary  that  he  should 
be  brought  before  the  court  where 
Jackson  presided,  but  it  was  pro- 
nounced impossible  to  arrest  him.  The 
slieriff  and  his  posse  had  alike  failed, 
when  the  difficulty  was  solved  by  the 
most  extraordinary  edict  which  ever 
issued  from  the  bench.  "  Summon  me," 
said  the  judge  to  the  law  officer.  It 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


123 


was  done  and  tlie  arrest  was  made.  It 
is  curious  to  read  of  a  judge  of  the  Su- 
preme Coui't  planning  duels  and  rougli 
personal  encounter  with  the  governor 
of  the  State,  as  we  do  of  Judge  Jack- 
son in  his  quarrel  with  Governor  Se- 
vier, No  stronger  evidence  could  be 
afforded  of  the  imperfect  social  condi- 
tion of  the  country.  It  was  a  rude,  un- 
finished time,  when  life  was  passed  in  a 
fierce  personal  contest  for  supremacy, 
and  wrongs  real  and  imaginary  were 
righted  at  sight  by  the  pistol.  This 
period  of  Jackson's  career,  including 
the  ten  years  following  the  retirement 
from  the  bench,  are  filled  with  prodi- 
gious strife  and  altercation.  The  duel- 
ling pistols  are  always  in  sight,  and 
dreary  are  the  details  of  wretched 
personal  quarrels  preliminary  to  their 
use. 

The  first  of  these   encounters  in 
which  Jackson  was  a  principal  occurred 
as  early  as  1795,  when  he  was  engaged 
in  court  and  challenged  the  opposite 
counsel  on  the  spot  for  some  scathing 
remark,  writing  his  message  on  the 
blank  -leaf  of  a  law  book.    Shots  were 
exchanged  before  the  parties  slept. 
The  most  prominent  of  Jackson's  alter- 
cations, however,  was  his  duel  with 
Dickinson,  a  meeting  noted  among  nar- 
ratives of  its  class  for  the  equality  of 
the  combat,  and  the  fierce  hostility  of 
the  parties.    It  was  fought  in  1806,  on 
the  banks-  of  Eed  Kiver  in  Kentucky. 
Charles  Dickinson  was  a  thriving  young 
la^^^er  of  Nashville,  who   had  used 
some  invidious  expressions  regarding 
Mrs.  Jackson.    These  were  apologized 
for  and  overlooked  when  a  roundabout 
quarrel  arose  out  of  the  terms  of  a 


horse  race,  which,  after  involving  Jack- 
son in  a  cantng  of  one  of  the  parties, 
and  his  friend  Coffee  in  a  duel  with 
another,  ended  in  bringing  the  former 
in  direct  collision  with  Dickinson.  A 
duel  Avas   arranged.     The  principals 
were  to  be  twenty-four  feet  apart,  and 
take  their  time  to  fire  after  the  word 
was  given.    Both  were  excellent  shots, 
and  Dickinson,  in  particular,  was  sure 
of  his  man.    So  certain  was  Jackson  of 
being  struck,  that  he  made   up  his 
mind  to  let  his  antagonist  have  the 
first  fire,  a  deliberate  conclusion  of 
great  courage  and  resolution,  based 
on  a  very  nice  calculation.    He  knew 
that  his  antagonist  would  be  quicker 
than  himself  at  any  rate,  and  that  if 
they  fired  together  his  own  shot  would 
probably  be  lost  in  consequence  of  the 
stroke  he  must  undoubtedly  receive 
from  the  coming  bullet.    He  conse- 
quently received  the  fire,  and  was  hit  as 
he  expected  to  be.    The  ball,  aimed  at 
his  heart,  broke  a  rib  and  grazed  the 
breast  bone.     His  shoes  were  filling 
with  blood  as  he  raised  his  pistol,  took 
deliberate  aim,  re-adjusted  the  trigger 
as  it  stopped  at  half  cock,  and  shot  his 
adversary  through  the  body.  Dickin- 
son fell,  to  bleed  to  death  in  a  long 
day  of  agony.    Jackson  desired  his 
own  wound  to  be  concealed,  that  his 
opponent  might  not  have  the  gratifica- 
tion of  knowing  that  he  had  hit  him 
at  all.    Such  was  the  couras^e  and  such 
the  revenge  of  the  man.-* 

After  leaving  the  judgeship,  Jackson 
— he  was  now  called  General  Jackson, 

'  The  details  of  this  affair  with  all  its  preliminaries,  oc- 
,cupy  forty  octavo  pages  of  Mr.  Parton's  narrative— a 
curious  and  most  instructive  picture  of  the  times. 


124:  ANDREW 

having  been  chosen  "by  the  field  officers 
major  general  of  the  State  militia  in 
1801,  gaining  the  distinction  by  a  sin- 
gle vote — employed  himself  on  his 
plantation,  the  Hermitage,  near  Nash- 
ville, and  the  storekeeping  in  which  he 
had  been  more  or  less  engaged  since 
his  arrival  in  the  country.  In  partner- 
ship vnth  his  relative.  Coffee,  he  was  a 
large  exchanger  of  the  goods  of  the 
West  for  the  native  produce,  which  he 
shipped  to  New  Orleans ;  and  it  was 
for  his  opportunities  of  aiding  him  in 
procuring  provisions,  as  well  as  for  his 
general  influence,  that  Colonel  Burr 
cultivated  his  acquaintance  in  his  west- 
ern schemes  in  1805,  and  the  follomng 
year.  General  Jackson,  at  first  fasci- 
nated by  the  man,  who  stood  well  with 
the  people  of  the  country  republi- 
can, introduced  him  into  society  and 
entertained  him  at  his  house ;  but 
when  suspicion  was  excited  by  his 
measures,  he  was  guarded  in  his  inter- 
course, and  stood  clearly  forth  on  any 
issue  which  might  arise,  involving  the 
preservation  of  the  integrity  of  the 
Union.  On  that  point  no  friendship 
could  bribe  him.  Accordingly  he 
offered  his  services  to  President  Jeffer- 
son, and,  receiving  orders  to  hold  his 
command  in  readiness,  there  was  great 
military  bustle  of  the  major  general  in 
Nashville,  raising  and  reviewing  com- 
panies, to  interrupt  the  alarming  pro- 
ceedings of  Colonel  Burr  on  the  Ohio. 
"When  it  was  found  that  there  was  no- 
thing formidable-  to  arrest,  Jackson's 
feeling  of  regard  for  Burr  revived,  he 
acquitted  him  of  any  treasonable  in- 
tent, and  resolutely  took  his  part  dur- 
ing the  trial  at  Richmond. 


JACKSON. 

On  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  with 
England,  in  1812,  General  Jackson  was 
one  of  the  first  to  tender  his  services  to 
the  President.  He  called  together 
twenty-five  hundred  volunteers  and 
placed  them  at  the  disposal  of  the 
Government.  The  proffer  was  accept- 
ed, and  in  December  Jackson  was  set 
in  motion  at  the  head  of  two  thousand 
men  to  join  General  Wilkinson,  then 
in  command  at  New  Orleans.  The 
season  was  unusually  cold  and  incle- 
ment ;  but  the  troops,  the  best  men  of 
the  State,  came  together  with  alacrity, 
and  by  the  middle  of  February  were 
at  Natchez,  on  the  Mississippi.  Jack- 
son's friend  and  relative,  Colonel  Cof- 
fee, led  a  mounted  regiment  overland, 
while  the  rest  descended  the  river. 
Colonel  Thomas  H.  Benton  also  iap- 
pears  on  the  scene  as  General  Jackson's 
aid.  At  Natchez,  the  party  was  ar- 
rested by  an  order  from  Wilkinson,  and 
remained  in  inaction  for  a  month,  when 
a  missive  came  from  the  War  Depart- 
ment disbanding  the  force.  Thus  was 
nipped  in  the  bud  the  ardent  longing 
of  the  general,  and  the  promise  6f  one 
of  the  finest  bodies  of  men  ever  raised 
in  the  country.  Jackson,  taking  the 
responsibility,  resolved  that  they  should 
not  be  dismissed  till,  as  in  duty  bound, 
he  had  returned  them  home.  He  ac- 
cordingly led  them  back  by  land,  and 
so  solicitous  was  he  for  their  welfare 
by  the  way,  so  jealous  of  their  rights, 
carelessly  invaded  by  the  government, 
that  his  popularity  with  the  men  was 
unbounded.  The  fiery  duellist,  "  sud- 
den and  quick  in  quarrel,"  gained  by 
his  patient  kindness  and  endurance  on 
that  march,  the  endearing  appellation, 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


125 


destined  to  be  of  world-wide  fame — 
Old  Hickoiy. 

He  had  taken,  as  we  have  said,  the 
responsibility  in  bringing  home  the 
troops.    This  involved  an  assumption 
of  their  debts  hj  the  way,  for  it  was 
not  certain,  though  to  be  presumed, 
that  the  government  would  honor  his 
drafts  for  the  expenses  of  transporta- 
tion.   It  did  not.    The  paper  was  pro- 
tested and  returned  upon  his  hands. 
In  this  strait,  Colonel  Benton,  going  to 
Washington,  undertook  the  manage- 
ment  of  the  affair,  and  by  a  politic  ap- 
peal to  the  fears  of  the  administration, 
lest  it  should  lose  the  vote  of  the  State, 
secured  the  payment.    As  he  was  about 
returning  to  Nashville,  warmed  by  this 
act  of  friendship,  he  received  word 
from  his  brother  that  General  Jackson 
had  acted  as  second  in  a  duel  to  that 
brother's  adversary — a  most  ungracious 
act,  as  it  appeared,  at  a  moment  when 
the  claims  of  gratitude  should  have 
been  uppermost.    The  explanation  was 
that  Carroll,  who  received  the  challenge, 
was  unfairly  assailed,  and  appealed,  as  a 
friend,  to  the  generosity  of  Jackson  to 
protect  him.    Taking  a  duel  very  much 
as  an  everyday  affair,  the  latter  proba- 
bly thought  little  of  the  absent  Benton. 
The  meeting  came  off,  and  Jesse  Ben- 
ton was  wounded.    An  angry  letter 
was  written  to  Jackson  by  his  brother, 
who  came  on  to  Nashville,  venting  his 
wrath  in  the  most  denunciatory  terms 
—for  Benton's  vocabulary  of  abuse, 
though  not  more  condensed,  was  more 
richly  furnished  with  expletives  than 
that  of  his  general.    This  coming  to 
the  hearing  of  Jackson,  he  swore  his 
big  oath,  "by  the   Eternal,  that  he 
n.— 16 


would  horsewhip  Tom  Benton  the  first 
time  he  met  him."    TheOBentons  knew 
the  man,  did  not  despise  the  threat,  but 
waited  armed  for  the  onset.    It  came 
off  one  day  at  the  door  of  the  City  Ho- 
tel in  Nashville.    There  were  several 
persons  actors  and  victims  in  the  affair. 
These  are  the  items  of  the  miserable 
business.    The  two  Bentons  are  in  the 
doorway  as  Jackson  and  his  friend  Co- 
lonel Coffee  approach.    Jackson,  with 
a  word  of  warning  to  Benton,  brandish- 
es his  riding-whip;  the  Colonel  fum- 
bles for  a  pistol  ;  the  General  presents 
his  own,  and  at  the  instant  receives  in 
his  arm  and.  shoulder  a  slug  and  bullet 
from  the  barrel  of  Jesse  Benton,  who 
stands  behind.  Jackson  is  thus  dropped, 
weltering  in  his  blood  with  a  desperate 
wound.     Coffee   thereupon  thinking 
Tom  Benton's  pistol  had  done  the 
work"  takes  aim  at  him,  misses  fire,  and 
is  making  for  his  victim  with  the  butt 
end,  when  an  opportune  cellar  stair- 
way opens  to  the  retreating  Colonel, 
who  is  precipitated  to   the  bottom. 
Meanwhile  Stokely  Hays  arrives,  intent 
on  plunging  the  sword,  which  he  drew 
from  his  cane,  into  the  body  of  Jesse 
Benton.    He  deals  the  thrust  with  unc- 
tion, but  •  striking  a  button,  its  force 
is  lost  and  the  weapon  shivered.  A 
struggle  on  the  floor  then  ensues  be- 
tween the  parties,  the  fatal  dagger  of 
Hays  being  raised  to  transfix  his  wound- 
ed  victim,  when  it  is  intercepted  by 
a  bystander,  and  the  murderous  and 
bloody  work  is  over.    Such  was  the 
famous  Benton  feud.    It  laid  Jackson 
ingloriously  up  for  several  weeks,  and 
drove   Colonel   Benton   to  Missouri. 
There  was  a  long  interval  of  mutual 


126  ANDREW 

hostile  feeling,  to  be  succeeded  by  a 
devoted  friendship  of  no  ordinary  in- 
tensity. 

This  Benton  affray  took  place  on 
the  4th  of  September,  1813.  A  few 
days  before,  on  the  30th  of  August,  oc- 
curred the  massacre  by  the  Creek  In- 
dians of  the  garrison  and  inhabitants 
at  Fort  Mimms,  a  frontier  post  in  the 
southern  part  of  Alabama.  A  large 
number  of  neighboring  settlers,  anxious 
for  their  safety,  had  taken  refuge  with- 
in the  stockade.  The  assailants  took 
it  by  surprise,  and  though  the  defend- 
ers fought  with  courage,  but  few  of  its 
inhabitants  escaped  the  terrible  car- 
nage. The  Indians  were  led  by  a  re- 
doubtable chieftain,  named  Weathers- 
ford,  the  son  of  a  white  man  and  a  Se- 
minole mother,  a  leader  of  sagacity, 
of  great  bravery  and  heroism,  and 
of  no  ordinary  magnanimity.  He  was 
unable,  however,  to  arrest,  as  he  would, 
the  fiendish  atrocities  committed  at 
the  fort.  "Women  and  children  were 
sacrificed  in  the  horrible  rage  for  slaugh- 
ter, and  the  bloody  deed  was  aggrava- 
ted by  the  most  indecent  mutilations. 
A  cry  was  spread  through  the  South- 
west similar  to  that  raised  in  our  own 
day  in  India,  at  the  Sepoy  brutalities. 
Vengeance  was  demanded  alike  for 
safety  and  retribution.  On  the  18th 
of  September  the  news  had  reached 
Nashville,  four  hundred  miles  distant, 
and  General  Jackson  was  called  into 
consultation  as  he  sat,  utterly  disabled 
with  his  Benton  wounds,  in  his  sick- 
room. It  was  resolved  that  a  large 
body  of  volunteers  should  be  sum- 
moned, and,  ill  as  he  was,  he  promised 
to  take  command  of  them  when  they 


JACKSON. 

were  collected.  Still  suffering  severely, 
before  they  were  ready  to  move  he 
joined  them  at  Fayetteville,  the  place 
of  meeting.  He  arrived  in  camp  the 
seventh  of  October,  and  began  his 
work  of  organizing  the  companies. 
Everything  was  to  be  done  in  drill  and 
preparation  for  the  advance  into  a  wil- 
derness where  no  supplies  w'ere  to  be 
had ;  yet  in  four  days,  a  report  having 
reached  him  that  the  enemy  were  ap- 
proaching, he  led  his  troops,  about  a 
thousand  men,  an  afternoon  march  of 
thirty-two  miles  in  six  hours  to  Hunts- 
ville.  The  Indians,  however,  were  not 
yet  at  hand,  and  joining  Colonel  Coffee, 
whom  he  had  sent  forward  with  a  cav- 
alry command,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tennessee,  he  was  reluctantly  com- 
pelled to  wait  there  too  long  a  time  for 
his  impatience,  till  something  could  be 
done  in  providing  stores,  in  which  the 
army  was  lamentably  deficient.  A 
post  was  established  on  the  river 
named  Fort  Deposit,  whence  Jackson, 
still  inadequately  provided,  set  out,  on 
the  twenty-fifth  of  the  month,  on  his 
southward  march,  and  carried  his  force 
to  an  encampment  at  Ten  Islands, 
on  the  Coosa  Kiver.  There  Coffee 
was  detached  to  attack  a  body  of  In- 
dians at  their  town  of  Talluschatches. 
He  performed  the  service  with  equal 
skill  and  gallantry ;  and  though  the 
Creeks,  as  they  did  throughout  the 
war,  fought  with  extraordinary  valor, 
urged  on  by  religious  fanaticism,  he 
gained  a  brilliant  victory.  One  of  the 
incidents  of  the  bloody  field  was  the 
accidental  slaughter  of  an  Indian  mo- 
ther clasping  her  infant  to  her  breast. 
The  child  was  carried  to  Jackson,  who 


ANDREW 

liad  it  tenderly  cared  for,  and  finally 
taken  to  his  Lome.  Tlie  boy,  named 
Liucoyer,  was  brought  up  at  tlie  Hei- 
mitage,  and  suitably  provided  for  by 
the  general. 

The  next  adventure  of  the  campaign 
was  an  expedition  led  by  Jackson  him- 
self to  relieve  a  camp  of  friendly  In- 
dians at  Talladega,  invested  by  a  large 
band  of  hostile   Creeks.    The  very 
night  on  which  he  received  the  message 
asking  aid,  brought  by  a  runner  who 
had  escaped  from  the  beleaguered  fort 
in  disguise,  he  started  with  a  force  of 
two  thousand  men,  eight  hundred  of 
whom  were  mounted,  and  in  a  long 
day's  march  thi'ough  the  wilderness 
traversed    the    intervening  distance, 
some  thirty  miles,  to  the  neighborhood 
of  the  fort.    The  dawn  of  the  next 
morning  saw  him  approaching  the  ene- 
my— a  thousand  picked  warriors.  Dis- 
posing the  infantry  in  three  lines,  he 
placed  the  cavalry  on  the  extreme 
wings,  to  advance  in  a  curve  and  in- 
close the  foe  in  a  circle.    A  guard  was 
sent  forward  to  challenge  an  engage- 
ment.   The  Indians  received  its  fire 
and  followed  in  pursuit,  when  the  front 
line  was  ordered  up  to  the  combat. 
There  was  some  misunderstanding,  and 
a  portion  of  the  militia  composing  it 
retreated,  when  the  general  promptly 
supplied  their  place  by  dismounting  a 
corps  of  cavalry  kept  as  a  reserve. 
The  militia  then  rallied,  the  fire  became 
general,  and  the  enemy  were  repulsed 
in  every  direction.    They  were  pursued 
by  the  cavalry  and  slaughtered  in  great 
numbers,   two    hundred  and  ninety 
being  left  dead  on  the  field  and  many 
more  bore  the  marks  of  the  engagement. 


JACKSON.  127 

The  American  loss  was  fifteen  killed 
and  eighty-five  wounded.  The  friendly 
Creeks  came  forth  from  the  fort  to 
thank  their  deliverers,  and  share  with 
them  their  small  supply  of  food. 

This  was  emphatically,  contrary  to  all 
the  rules  of  war,  a  hungry  campaign. 
On  his  return  to  his  camp,  to  which, 
having  been  fortified,  the  name  Fort 
Strother  was  given,  Jackson  found  the 
supplies  which  he  had  urgently  demand- 
ed, and  which  he  so  much  needed,  not 
yet  arrived.  His  private  stores,  which 
had  been  bought  and  forwarded  at  his 
expense,  were  exhausted  to  relieve  the 
wants  of  his  men.  He  himself,  with 
his  ofiicers,  subsisted  on  unseasoned 
tripe,  like  the  poor  and  proud  Spanish 
grandee  in  the  Adventure  of  Lazarillo 
de  Tormes,  eulogizing  the  horse's  foot, 
maintaining  that  he  liked  nothing  bet- 
ter. The  story  is  told  of  a  starving 
soldier  approaching  him  at  this  time 
with  a  request  for  food.  "  I  will  give 
you,"  said  the  general,  "  what  I  have," 
and  with  that  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  few  acorns,  "  my  best  and  only  fare."  ^ 

Food,  food,  was  the  constant  crv  of 
Jackson  in  his  messages  to  the  rulers 
in  the  adjoining  States.  It  was  long 
in  coming,  and  in  the  meanwhile  the 
commander,  eager  to  follow  up  his  suc- 
cesses and  close  the  war,  was  con- 
demned to  remain  in  inactivity — the 
hardest  trial  for  a  man  of  his  temper. 
Scant  subsistence  and  the  hardships 
common  to  all  encampments  brought 
discontent.  The  men  longed  to  be  at 
home,  and  symptoms  of  re\olt  began 
to  appear.    The  militia  actually  com- 


'  Eaton's  Life  of  Jackson,  p.  66. 


li^B  ANDREW 

menced  their  marcli  backward ;  but 
they  had  reckoned  without  their  leader. 
On  starting  they  found  the  volunteers 
drawn  up  to  oppose  their  progress,  and 
abandoned  their  design.  Such  was  the 
force  of  Jackson's  authority  in  the 
camp,  that  when  these  volunteers,  who 
were  in  reality  disappointed  that  the 
movement  did  not  succeed,  attempted 
in  their  turn  to  escape,  they  were  in 
like  manner  met  by  the  militia.  The 
occasion  required  all  Jackson's  ingenu- 
ity and  resolution,  and  both  were  freely 
expended.  His  iron  will  had  to  yield 
something  in  the  way  of  compromise. 
Appealing  to  his  men,  he  secured  a 
band  of  the  most  impressible  to  remain 
at  Fort  Strother,  while  he  led  the  rest 
in  quest  of  provisions  toward  Fort  De- 
posit. The  understanding  was  that 
they  were  to  return  with  him  when 
food  was  obtained.  They  had  not 
gone  far  when  they  met  a  drove  of  cat- 
tle on  their  way  to  the  camp.  A  feast 
was  enjoyed  on  the  spot ;  but  the  men 
were  still  intent  on  going  homeward. 
Nearly  the  whole  brigade  was  ready 
for  motion,  when  Jackson,  who  had 
ordered  their  return,  was  informed  of 
their  intention.  His  resolution  was 
taken  on  the  instant.  He  summoned 
his  staff,  and  gave  the  command  to  fire 
on  the  mutineers  if  they  attempted  to 
proceed.  One  company,  already  on 
the  way,  was  thus  turned  back,  when, 
going  forth  alone  among  the  men,  he 
found  the  movement  likely  to  become 
general.  There  was  no  choice  in  his 
mind  but  resistance  at  the  peril  of  his 
life,  for  the  men  once  gone,  the  whole 
campaign  was  at  an  end.  Seizing  a 
musket,  he  rested  the  barrel  or  the 


JACKSON. 

neck  of  his  horse — ^he  was  unable,  from 
his  wound,  to  use  his  left  arm — and 
threatened  to  shoot  the  first  who  should 
attempt  to  advance.  An  intimation  of 
this  kind  from  Jackson  was  never  to  be 
despised.  The  men  knew  it,  and  re- 
turned to  their  post.  They  yielded  to 
the  energy  of  a  superior  mind,  but 
they  were  not  content.  Their  next 
resource  was,  an  assertion  of  the  termi- 
nation of  their  year's  enlistment,  which 
they  said  would  expire  on  the  tenth  of 
December ;  but  here  they  were  met  by 
the  astute  lawyer,  who  reminded  them 
that  they  were  pledged  to  serve  one 
year  out  of  two,  and  that  the  year 
must  be  an  actual  service  in  the  field 
of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days 
The  argument,  however,  failed  to  con 
vince,  and  as  the  day  approached  the 
men  were  more  resolute  for  their  de- 
parture. They  addressed  a  courteous 
letter  to  their  commander,  to  which  he 
replied  in  an  earnest  expostulatory  ad- 
dress. "  I  know  not,"  he  said,  "  what 
scenes  will  be  exhibited  on  the  tenth 
instant,  nor  what  consequences  are 
to  flow  from  them  here  or  elsewhere ; 
but  as  I  shall  have  the  consciousness 
that  they  are  not  imputable  to  any  mis- 
conduct of  mine,  I  trust  I  shall  have 
the  firmness  not  to  shrink  from  a  dis- 
charge of  my  duty."  The  appeal  was 
not  heeded,  and  on  the  evening  of  the 
ninth  the  signs  of  mutiny  were  not  to 
be  mistaken.  The  general  took  his 
measures  accordingly.  He  ordered  all 
officers  and  soldiers  to  their  duty,  and 
stationed  the  artillery  company  with 
their  two  pieces  in  front  and  rear,  while 
he  posted  the  ■  militia  on  an  eminence 
in  advance.    He  himself  rode  along 


AXDREW 

the  line  and  addressed  tlie  men,  in 
their  companies,  ^rith  great  earnestness. 
He  talked  of  the  diso'race  theii*  conduct 
would  bring  upon  themselves,  their 
families  and  country  ;  that  they  would 
succeed  only  by  passing  over  his  dead 
body :  while  he  held  out  to  them  the 
prospect  of  reinforcements.  "  I  am 
too,"  he  said,  "  in  daily  expectation  of 
receiving  information  whether  you  may 
be  discharged  or  not ;  until  then,  you 
must  not  and  shall  not  retire.  I  have 
done  with  entreaty ;  it  has  been  used 
long  enough.  I  will  attempt  it  no 
more.  You  must  now  determine  whe- 
ther you  will  go,  or  peaceably  remain  : 
if  you  still  persist  in  your  determina- 
tion to  move  forcibly  off,  the  point  be- 
tween us  shall  soon  be  decided."  There 
was  hesitation.  He  demanded  a  posi- 
tive answer.  Again  a  slight  delay. 
The  artillerist  was  ordered  to  prepare 
the  match.  The  word  of  surrender 
passed  along  the  line,  and  a  second 
time  the  rebellious  volunteers  suc- 
cumbed to  the  will  of  their  master. 
These,  it  should  be  stated,  were  the 
very  men,  the  original  company,  whom 
Jackson  had  carried  to  Natchez,  and 
for  whose  welfare  on  their  return  he 
had  pledged  his  property.  But  in  vain 
he  reminded  them  of  the  fact,  and  ap- 
pealed to  their  sense  of  generosity  to 
remain  in  the  service.  He  gave  them 
finally  the  choice  to  proceed  to  Tennes- 
see or  remain  with  him.  They  chose 
tlie  former,  and  he  let  them  go. 

The  men  he  had  left  with  him  were 
enlisted  for  short  periods,  or  so  under- 
stood it.  There  was  little  to  build 
upon  for  the  campaign,  and  he  was 
even  advised  by  the  Governor  of  Ten- 


JAOKSON.  129 

nessee,  to  abandon  the  prosecution  of 
the  war,  at  least  for  the  present,  or  till 
the  administration  at  Washington 
should  provide  better  means  for  carry- 
ing it  on.  This  was  not  advice,  des- 
perate as  appeared  the  situation,  to  be 
accepted  by  Jackson.  His  reply  was 
eminently  characteristic — charged  with 
a  determined  self-reliance  which  he 
sought  to  infuse  into  his  correspondent. 
"Take  the  responsibility"  is  written 
all  over  it.  "  If  you  would  preserve 
your  reputation,"  he  writes,  "  or  that  of 
the  State  over  which  you  preside,  you 
must  take  a  straightforward,  deter- 
mined course ;  regardless  of  the  ap- 
plause or  censure  of  the  populace,  and 
of  the  forebodings  of  that  dastardly 
and  designing  crew,  who,  at  a  time  like 
this,  may  be  expected  to  clamor  con- 
tinually in  your  ears.  The  very 
wretches  who  now  beset  you  with  evil 
counsel,  will  be  the  first,  should  the 
measures  which  they  recommend  event- 
uate in  disaster,  to  call  down  impreca- 
tions on  your  head,  and  load  you  with 
reproaches.  Your  country  is  in  dan- 
ger :  apply  its  resoiirces  to  its  defence  ! 
Can  any  course  be  more  plain  ?  Do 
you,  my  friend,  at  such  a  moment  as 
the  present,  sit  with  your  arms  folded 
and  your  heart  at  ease,  waiting  a  solu- 
tion of  your  doubts  and  a  definition 
of  your  powers  ?  Do  you  wait  for  spe- 
cial instruction  from  the  Secretary  of 
War,  which  it  is  impossible  for  you  to 
receive  in  time  for  the  danger  that 
threatens  ?"  The  governor  had  said 
that  his  power  ceased  with  the  call  for 
troops.  "Widely  different,"  replies 
Jackson,  "  is  my  opinion.  You  are  to 
see   that  they  come  when  they  are 


130  ANDREW 

called.  Of  wliat  avail  is  it,"  lie  urges 
v^^itli  an  earnestness  savorinGf  of  sarcasm, 
'  to  give  an  order  if  it  be  never  executed, 
and  may  be  disobeyed  witb  impunity  ? 
Is  it  by  empty  mandates  tliat  we  can 
hope  to  conquer  our  enemies  and  save  our 
defenceless  frontiers  from  butchery  and 
devastation  ?  Believe  me,  my  valued 
friend,  there  are  times  when  it  is  highly 
criminal  to  shrink  from  responsibility 
or  scruple  about  the  exercise  of  our 
powers.  There  are  times  when  we 
must  disregard  punctilious  etiquette 
and  think  only  of  serving  our  country." 
He  also  presented,  in  like  forcible 
terms,  the  injurious  effects  of  abandon- 
ing the  frontiers  to  the  mercy  of  the 
savage.  The  governor  took  the  advice 
to  heart,  pointedly  as  it  was  given ;  he 
ordered  a  fresh  force  of  twenty-five 
hundred  militia  into  the  field,  and 
seconded  General  Jackson's  call  upon 
General  Cocke  for  the  troops  of  East 
Tennessee.  Meantime,  however,  Jack- 
son's force  at  Fort  Strother  was  re- 
duced to  a  minimum ;  the  militia,  en- 
listed for  short  terms,  would  go,  and 
there  was  great  difficulty  in  getting 
new  recruits  on  to  supply  their  places. 
The  brave  Coffee  failed  to  re  enlist  his 
old  regiment  of  cavalry.  There  was  a 
strange  want  of  alacrity  through  the 
early  period,  of  this  war,  in  raising  and 
disciplining  the  militia.  With  a  pro- 
per force  at  his  command,  duly  equipped 
and  supplied,  Jackson  would  have 
brought  the  savages  to  terms  in  a 
month.  As  it  was,  nearly  a  year 
elapsed  ;  but  the  fighting  period,  when 
he  was  once  ready  to  move,  was  of 
short  duration. 

While  he  was  waiting  for  the  new 


JACKSON. 

Tennessee  enlistments,  he  determined 
to  have  one  brush  with  the  enemy  with 
such  troops  as  he  had.  He  according- 
ly set  in  motion  his  little  force  of  eight 
hundred  raw  recruits  on  the  fifteenth 
of  January,  on  an  excursion  into  the 
Indian  territory.  At  Talladega  he  was 
joined  by  between  two  and  three  hun- 
dred friendly  Cherokees  and  Creeks, 
with  whom  he  advanced  against  the 
foe,  who  were  assembled  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tallapoosa,  near  Emuckfau.  He 
reached  their  neighborhood  on  the 
night  of  the  twenty-first,  and  prepared 
his  camp  for  an  attack  before  morning. 
The  Indians  came,  as  was  expected, 
about  dawn ;  were  repulsed,  and  when 
daylight  afforded  the  opportunity, 
were  pursued  with  slaughter.  There 
was  another  sharp  conflict  about  the 
middle  of  the  day,  which  ended  in  a 
victory  for  the  Americans,  at  some  cost 
to  the  conquerors,  who,  ill  prepared  to 
keep  the  field,  moved  back  toward  the 
fort.  Enotochopco  Creek  was  reached 
and  crossed  by  a  part  of  the  force, 
when  the  Indians  fell  upon  the  rear 
guard,  who  turned  and  fled ;  the  artil- 
lery, however,  still  left  on  that  side  of 
the  river,  gave  the  savages  a  warm  re- 
ception, when  they  were  pursued  by 
the  cavalry,  which  had  recrossed  the 
stream. 

By  this  time  the  country  was  roused 
to  some  adequate  support  of  its  gene- 
ral in  the  field.  At  the  end  of  Febru- 
ary, Jackson  was  reinforced  by  the  ar- 
rival at  Fort  Strother  of  a  force  from 
East  and  West  Tennessee  of  about  five 
thousand  men.  By  the  middle  of  the 
next  month  he  was  in  motion,  terribly 
in  earnest  for  a  short  and  summary  ex- 


ANDREW 

til'pation  of  the  savages.    The  execu- 
tion  of  Jolin   Woods,   a  Tennessee 
youth  who  had  shown  some  insubordi- 
nation in  camp,  was  a  prelude  to  the 
approaching  tempest.    The  commander 
thought  it  necessary  to  the  unity  and 
integrity  of  the  service.  Fortunately 
for  the  purposes  of  this  new  invasion, 
the  chief  warriors  of  the  nation  assem- 
bled themselves  at  a  place  convenient 
enough  for  defence,  but  where  defeat 
was  ruin.    It  was  at  Tohopeka,  an  In- 
dian name  for  the  horse-shoe  bend  of 
the  Tallapoosa,  an  area  of  a  hundred 
acres  inclosed  by  the  deep  waters  of 
the  river  and  protected  at  its  junction 
with  the  land  by  a  heavy  breastwork 
of  logs  pierced  for  musketry  and  skill- 
fully arranged  for  defence.  Within 
this  inclosui'e,  at  the  time  of  Jackson's 
arrival,  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  March, 
with  less  than  three  thousand  men,  in- 
cluding a  regiment  of  regulars  under 
Colonel  Williams,  were  assembled  sojne 
eight  or  nine  hundred  warriors  of  the 
Creeks.    The  plan  of  attack  was  thus 
arranged.    Sending  General  Coffee  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river  to  effect 
a  diversion  in  that  quarter,  Jackson 
himself  directed  the  assault  on  the 
works  at  the  neck.    He  had  two  field 
pieces,    which    were  advantageously 
planted  on  a  neighboring  eminence. 
His  main  reliance,  however,  was  at 
clo§e  quarters  with  his  musketry.  On 
the  river  side  General  Coffee  succeeded 
in  inclosing  the  bend  and  cutting  off 
escape  by  the  canoes,  which  he  cap- 
tured by  the  aid  of  his  friendly  In- 
dians, and  used  as  a  means  of  landing 
in  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  position. 
This  success  was  the  signal  for  the  as- 1 


JACKSON.  131 

sault  in  front.    Kegulars  and  volun- 
teers,  eager  for  the  contest,  advanced 
boldly  up.    Beaching  the  rampart,  the 
struggle  was  for  the  port-holes,  through 
which  to  fire,  musket  meeting  musket 
in  the  close  encounter.    "  Many  of  the 
enemy's   balls,"   says    Eaton,   "  were 
welded  between  the  muskets  and  bay- 
onets of  our  soldiers.    Major  Montgo- 
mery, of  Williams's  regiment,  led  the 
way  on  the  rampart,  and  fell  dead  sum- 
moning his  men  to   follow.  Others 
succeeded  and  the  fort  was  taken.  In 
vain  was  the  fight  kept  up  within,  from 
the  shelter  of  the  fallen  trees,  and 
equally  hopeless  was  the  attempt  at 
escape  by  the  river.    No  quarter  was 
asked,  and  none  given,  for  none  would 
be   received.     Women  and  children 
were  the  only  prisoners.    It  was  a  des- 
perate  slaughter.    Nearly  the  whole 
band  of  Indians  perished,  selling  their 
lives  as  dearly  as  possible.    The  Ame- 
rican loss  was  fifty-five  killed  and  about 
thrice  the  number  Avounded ;  but  the 
Cherokee  dead  were  to  be  counted  by 
hundreds.    Having  strack  this  fearful 
blow,  Jackson  retired  to  Fort  Williams, 
which  he  had  built  on  his  march,  and 
issued,  as  was  his  wont — he  was  quite 
equal  to  Napoleon  in  this  respect — an 
inspiriting  address  to  his  troops.  If 
the  words  are  not  always  his,  the  sen- 
timent, as  his  biographer  suggests,  is 
ever  Jacksonian.    Somebody  or  other 
was  always  found  to  give"  exjDression  to 
his   ardent  ejaculations,  which  need 
only  the  broad  theatre  of  a  European 
battlefield  to  vie  with  the  thrilling 
manifestoes  of  Bonaparte.    "  The  fiends 
of  the  Tallapoosa  will  no  longer  mur- 
der our  women  and  children,  or  disturb 


132  ANDREW 

tlie  quiet  of  our  borders.  Their  mid- 
niglit  flambeaux  will  no  more  illumine 
their  council-house,  or  shine  upon  the 
victim  of  their  infernal  orgies."  The 
gratifying  event  was  nearer  even  than 
the  general  anticipated.  He  looked 
for  a  further  struggle,  but  the  spirit  of 
the  nation  was  broken.  Advancing 
southward,  he  joined  the  troops  from 
the  south  at  the  junction  of  the  Coosa 
and  Tallapoosa,  the  "Holy  Ground" 
of  the  Indians,  where  he  received  their 
offers  of  submission.  The  brave  chief- 
tain, "Weathersford,  voluntarily  surren- 
dered himself  A  portion  of  the  In- 
dians fled  to  Florida.  Those  who 
were  left  were  ordered  to  the  northern 
parts  of  Alabama,  Fort  Jackson  being 
established  at  the  confluence  of  the 
rivers  to  cut  off  their  communication 
with  foreign  enemies  on  the  seaboard. 
The  war  had  originally  grown  out  of 
the  first  English  successes  and  the 
movements  of  Tecumseh  on  the  north- 
ern frontier,  and  was  assisted  by  Span- 
ish sympathy  on  the  Gulf 

Jackson  was  now  at  liberty  to  return 
to  Nashville  with  the  troops  who  had 
shared  his  victories.  He  had  of  course 
a  triumphant  reception  in  Tennessee, 
and  his  services  were  rewarded  at 
Washington  by  the  appointment  of 
major  general  in  the  army  of  the  Unit- 
ed States,  the  resignation  of  General 
Harrison  at  the  moment  placing  this 
high  honor  at  the  disposal  of  the  gov- 
ernment. It  was  an  honor  well  de- 
served, earned  by  long  and  patient  ser- 
vice under  no  ordinary  difliculties — 
difficulties  inherent  to  the  position, 
aggravated  by  the  delays  of  others, 
and  some,  formidable  enough  to  most 


JACKSON. 

men,  which  he  carried  with  him 
bound  up  in  his  own  frame.  We  so 
naturally  associate  health  and  bodily 
vigor  with  brilliant  military  achieve- 
ments that  it  requires  an  effort  of  the 
mind  to  figure  Jackson  as  he  really 
was  in  these  campaigns.  We  have 
seen  him  carrying  his  arm  in  a  sling, 
unable  to  handle  a  musket  when  he 
confronted  his  retiring  army ;  but  that 
was  a  slight  inconvenience  of  his 
wound  compared  with  the  gnawing 
disease  which  was  preying  upon  his 
system.  "  Chronic  diarrhoea,"  says  his 
biographer,  "  was  the  form  which  his 
complaint  assumed.  The  slightest  im- 
prudence in  eating  or  drinking  brought 
on  an  attack,  during  which  he  suffered 
intensely.  While  the  paroxysm  lasted 
he  could  obtain  relief  only  by  sitting 
on  a  chair  with  his  chest  against  the 
back  of  it  and  his  arms  dangling  for- 
ward. In  this  position  he  was  some- 
times compelled  to  remain  for  hours. 
It  often  happened  that  he  was  seized 
with  the  familiar  pain  while  on  the 
march  through  the  woods  at  the  head 
of  the  troops.  In  the  absence  of  other 
means  of  relief  he  would  have  a  sap- 
ling half  severed  and  bent  over,  upon 
which  he  would  hang  with  his  arms 
downward,  till  the  agony  subsi(  led."  ^ 
In  July,  General  Jackson  was  again 
at  the  South  on  the  Alabama,  j)resid- 
ing  at  the  treaty  conference  with  the 
Indians.  The  terms  he  proposed  were 
thought  hard,  but  he  was  inexorable 
in  requiring  them.  The  treaty  of  Fort 
Jackson,  signed  on  the  tenth  of  Au- 
gust, stripped  the  Creeks  of  more  than 


'  Parton'a  Jackson,  I.  64Y-8. 


ANDREW 

half  of  their  possessions,  confining 
tlieui  to  a  region  least  inconvenient  to 
tlie  peaceful  enjoyment  of  the  neigh- 
boring States.  "  As  a  national  mark 
of  gratitude,"  the  friendly  Creeks  be- 
stowed upon  General  Jackson  and  his 
associate  in  the  treaty.  Colonel  Haw- 
kins, three  miles  square  of  land  to 
each,  with  a  request  that  the  United 
States  Government  would  ratify  the 
gift :  but  this,  though  recommended  to 
Cono-  ress  by  President  Madison,  was 
never  carried  into  effect. 

While  the  treaty  was  still  under  ne- 
gotiation, Jackson  was  intent  on  the 
next  movement  of  the  war,  which  he 
foresaw  would  carry  him  to  the  shores 
of  the  Gulf.  He  knew  the  sympathy 
of  the  Spaniards  in  Florida  with  the 
English,  and  was  prepared  for  the  de- 
signs of  the  latter  against  the  southern 
country.  Having  obtained  informa- 
tion that  British  muskets  were  distri- 
buted among  the  Indians,  and  that 
English  troops  had  been  landed  in  Flo- 
rida, he  applied  to  the  Secretary  of 
War,  General  Armstrong,  for  permis- 
sion to  call  out  the  militia  and  reduce 
Pensacola  at  once.  The  matter  was 
left  to  the  discretion  of  the  commander, 
but  the  letter  conferring  the  authority 
did  not  reach  him  for  six  months.  In 
the  mean  time  he  felt  compelled  to  take 
the  management  of  the  war  into  his 
own  hands.  Fully  aware  of  the  im- 
pending struggle,  he  was  in  correspond- 
ence with  Governor  Claiborne  of  Lou- 
isiana, putting  him  on  his  guard,  and 
with  Maurequez,  the  Spanish  governor 
of  Pensacola,  calling  him  to  a  strict 
account  for  his  tampering  with  the 
enemy.  To  be  nearer  the  scene  of  op- 
n.— 17 


JACKSON.  133 

erations,  he  removed,  immediately  after 
the  conclusion  of  the  treaty,  to  Mo])ile, 
where  he  could  gain  the  earliest  intelli- 
gence of  the  movements  of  tlie  British. 
Learning  there,  in  September,  of  a 
threatened  visit  of  the  fleet  under  the 
orders  of  Colonel  Nichols  to  Mobile, 
he  called  loudly  upon  the  governors  of 
the  adjoining  States  for  aid,  and  gave 
the  word  to  his  adjutant.  Colonel  But- 
ler, in  Tennessee,  to  enlist  and  bring 
on  his  forces.    They  responded  eagerly 
to  the  call,  for  the  name  of  Jackson 
was  now  identified  with  glory  and  vic- 
tory, which  they  were  ambitious  to 
share.    His  old  fiiend.  General  Coffee, 
was  their  leader.    Before  they  arrived, 
the  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  bay  was 
put  in  a  state  of  defence  under  the 
command  of  Major  Lawrence,  of  the 
United  States  infantry.    In  the  after- 
noon of  the  fifteenth  of  September  it 
was  his  fortune  to  maintain  the  post 
against  a  bombardment  by  the  British 
fleet  of  Captain  Percy  which  recalls 
both  the  attack  and  success  of  the  de- 
fenders at  Fort  Sullivan,  in  the  war  of 
the  Revolution.    What  Moultrie  and 
his  brave  men  did  on  that  day  in  re- 
pelling the  assault  of  Sir  Peter  Parker 
and  his  ships  was  now  done  by  Law- 
rence at  Fort  Bowyer.    "  Don't  give  up 
the  fort "  was  his  motto,  as  "  Don't 
give  up  the  ship  "  had  been  uttered  by 
his  namesake  on  "the  dying  deck"  of 
the  Chesapeake,  the  year  before.  The 
fort  was  not  given  up.    Percy's  flag- 
ship, the  Hermes,  was  destroyed,  and 
the  remainder  of  his  command  returned, 
seriously  injured,  to  Pensacola. 

General  Jackson  rejoiced  in  this  vic- 
tory at  Mobile,  and  waited  only  the 


134  ANDREW 

arrival  of  his  forces  to  carry  tlie  war 
home  to  tlie  British  in  Florida.  At 
the  end  of  October,  General  Coffee  ar- 
rived with  twenty-eight  hundred  men 
on  the  Mobile  River,  where  Jackson 
joined  him,  and  mustering  his  forces  to 
the  number  of  three  thousand,  marched 
on  the  third  of  November  against 
Pensacola.  Owing  to  the  difficulty  of 
obtaining  forage  on  the  way,  the  caval- 
ry was  dismounted.  The  troops  had 
rations  for  eight  days.  On  his  arri- 
val before  the  town,  being  desirous 
as  far  as  possible  of  presenting  his 
movements  in  a  peaceful  light,  Gene- 
ral Jackson  sent  a  messenger  forward 
to  demand  possession  of  the  forts  to  be 
held  by  the  United  States  "  until  Spain, 
by  furnishing  a  sufficient  force,  might 
be  able  to  protect  the  province  and 
preserve  unimpaired  her  neutral  char- 
acter." On  approaching  the  fort  the 
bearer  of  the  flag  was  fired  on  and 
compelled  to  retire.  Aware  of  the  de- 
licacy of  his  self-imposed  undertaking, 
before  proceeding  to  extremities  he 
sent  a  second  message  to  the  governor, 
by  a  Spanish  corporal  who  had  been 
captured  on  his  route.  This  time, 
word  was  brought  back  that  the  gov- 
ernor was  ready  to  listen  to  his  propo- 
sals. He  accordingly  sent  Major  Piere 
a  second  time  vsith  his  demands.  A 
council  was  held,  and  they  were  re- 
fused. Nothing  was  then  left  but  to 
proceed.  The  town  was  gained  by  a 
simple  stratagem.  Arranging  a  por- 
tion of  his  troops  as  if  to  advance 
directly  on  his  road,  he  drew  the  British 
shipping  to  a  position  on  that  side, 
when,  by  a  rapid  march,  he  suddenly 
presented  his  main  force  on  the  other. 


JACKSON. 

He  consequently  entered  the  town  be- 
fore the  movement  could  be  met.  A 
street  fight  ensued,  and  a  barrier  was 
taken,  when  the  governor  appeared 
with  a  flao;  of  truce.  General  Jackson 
met  him  and  demanded  the  surrender 
of  the  military  defences,  which  was 
conceded.  Some  delay,  however,  oc- 
curred, which  ended  in  the  delivery  of 
the  fortifications,  of  the  town,  and  the 
blowing  up  of  the  fort  at  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor.  Having  accomplished 
this  feat,  the  British  fleet  sailed  away 
before  morning.  Whither  were  they 
bound  ?  To  Fort  Bowyer  and  Mobile 
in  all  probability,  and  thither  Jack- 
son, leaving  the  Spanish  governor  on 
friendly  terms  behind  him,  hastened 
his  steps.  Tarrying  a  few  days  for 
the  British,  who  did  not  come,  he  took 
his  departure  for  New  Orleans,  with 
his  staff,  and  in  a  journey  of  nine  days 
reached  the  city  on  the  first  of  Decem- 
ber. 

K  ever  the  force  of  a  single  will, 
the  safety  which  may  be  provided  for 
an  imperilled  people  by  the  confidence 
of  one  strong  right  arm,  were  fully  il- 
lustrated, it  would  seem  to  be  in  the 
military  drama  which  was  enacted  in 
this  and  the  following  month  on  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi.  Andrew 
Jackson  was  the  chief  actor.  Louisia- 
na had  brave  men  in  her  midst,  numer- 
ous in  proportion  to  her  mixed  popula- 
tion and  still  unsettled  condition,  but 
whom  had  she,  at  once  with  experience 
and  authority,  to  summon  on  the  in- 
stant out  of  the  discordant  materials  a 
band  strong  enough  for  her  preserva- 
tion ?  At  the  time  of  General  Jack- 
son's arrival  a  large  fleet  of  the  enemy 


135 


was  lioveriug  on  the  coast  amply  pro- 
vided witli  every  resource  of  naval  and 
lullitarj  art,  bearing  a  host  of  tlie  ve- 
teran troops  of  England,  experienced 
in  tLe  bloody  contests  under  Welling- 
ton— an  expedition  compared  with 
which  the  best  means  of  defence  at 
hand  for  the  inhabitants  of  l^ew  Or- 
leans resembled  the  resistance  of  the 
reeds  on  the  river  bank  to  Behemoth. 
It  was  the  genius  of  Andrew  Jackson 
which  made  those  reeds  a  rampart  of 
iron.  He  infused  his  indomitable  cour- 
age and  resolution  in  the  whole  mass  of 
citizens.  A  few  troops  of  hunters,  a 
handful  of  militia,  a  band  of  smuo-frlers, 
a  company  of  negroes,  a  group  of  peace- 
ful citizens  stiiFened  under  his  inspira- 
tion into  an  army.  Without  Jackson, 
irresolution,  divided  counsels,  and  sur- 
render, might,  with  little  reproach  to 
the  inhabitants,  under  the  circumstan- 
ces, have  been  the  history  of  one  fatal 
fortnight.  With  Jackson  all  was  union, 
confidence  and  victory. 

The  instant  of  his  arrival  he  set 
about  the  work  of  organization,  review- 
ing the  military  companies  of  the  city, 
selecting  his  staff,  personally  examining 
the  approaches  from  the  sea  and  arrang'- 
mg  means  of  defence.  He  was  deter- 
mined that  the  first  step  of  the  enemy 
on  landing  should  be  resisted.  This 
was  the  inspiration  of  the  military 
movements  which  followed,  and  the 
.secret  of  his  success.  He  did  not  get 
behind  intrenchments  and  wait  for  the 
foe  to  come  up,  but  determined  to  go 
forth  and  meet  him  on  the  way.  He 
was  not  there  so  much  to  defend  New 
Orleans  as  to  attack  an  army  of  inso- 
lent intruders  and  drive  them  into  the 


sea.  They  might  be  thousands,  and 
his  force  might  be  only  hundi-eds,  but 
he  knew  of  but  one  resolve,  to  fidit  to 
the  uttermost,  and  he  pursued  the  reso- 
lution as  if  he  were  revenging  a  per- 
sonal insult. 

Events  came  rapidly  on  as  was  anti- 
cipated,  an   attack  was   made  from 
the  fleet  upon  the  gunboats  on  Lake 
Borgne.    They  were  gallantry  defend- 
ed, but  compelled  to  surrender.  This 
action  took  place  on  the  fourteenth  of 
December.    Now  was  the  time,  if  ever, 
to  met  the  invading  host.    The  spirit 
of  Jackson  rose,  if  possible,  yet  higher 
with  the  occasion.    Well  knowing  that 
not  a  man  in  the  city  could  be  spared, 
and  the  inefficiency,  in  such  emergencies, 
of  the  civil  authority,  he  resolve  to 
take  the  whole  power  in  his  own  hands. 
On  the  sixteenth,  he  proclaimed  mar- 
tial law.    Its  effect  was  to  concentrate 
every  energy  of  the  people  with  a  sin- 
gle aim  to  their  deliverance.    Two  days 
after,  a  review  was  held  of  the  State 
militia,  the  volunteer  companies,  and 
the  battalion  of  free  men  of  color,  when 
a  stirring  address  was  read,  penned  by 
the  general's  "secretary,  Edward  Liv- 
ingston— a  little  smoother  than  Old 
Hickory's  bulletins   in  the  Alabama 
wilderness,  but  not  at  all  uncertain. 
The  Tennessee,  Mississipj)i  and  Ken- 
tucky recruits  had  not  yet  arrived; 
but  they  were  on  their  way,  straining 
every  nerve  in  forced  marches  to  meet 
the  coming  danger.    Had  the  British 
moved  with  the  same  energy,  the  city 
might  have  fallen  to  them.    It  was  not 
till  the  twenty-first,  a  week  after  their 
victory  on  the  lake,  that  they  began 
their  advance,  and  pushed  a  portion  of 


ANDREW 


JAGKSOK 


tlieir  force  through  the  swami)s,  reach- 
ing a  plantation  on  the  river  bank,  six 
miles  below  the  city,  on  the  forenoon 
of  the  twenty-third.  It  was  past  mid- 
day when  woi'd  was  brought  to  Jack- 
son of  their  arrival,  and  within  three 
hours  a  force  of  some  two  thousand 
men  was  on  the  way  to  meet  them. 
No  attack  was  expected  by  the  enemy 
that  night ;  their  comrades  were  below 
in  numbers,  and  they  anticipated  an 
easy  advance  to  the  city  the  next  morn- 
ing. They  little  knew  the  commander 
with  whom  they  had  to  deaL  That 
very  night  they  must  be  assailed  in 
tlieir  position.  Intrusting  an  impor- 
tant portion  of  his  command  to  General 
Coffee,  who  was  on  hand  with  his  brave 
Tennesseans,  charged  with  surrounding 
the  enemy  on  the  land  side,  Jackson 
himself  took  position  in  front  on 
the  road,  while  the  Carolina,  a  war 
schooner,  dropped  down  on  the  river 
opposite  the  British  station.  Her  can- 
nonade, at  half-past  seven,  throwing  a 
deadly  shower  of  grape-shot  into  the 
encampment,  was  the  signal  for  the 
commencement  of  this  night  struggle. 
It  was  a  fearful  contest  in  the  darkness, 
frequently  of  hand  to  hand  individual 
prowess,  particularly  where  Coffee's 
riflemen  were  employed.  The  forces 
actually  engaged  are  estimated  on  the 
part  of  the  British,  including  a  reinforce- 
ment which  they  received,  at  more  than 
twenty-three  hundred ;  about  fifteen 
hundred  Americans  took  part  in  the 
fight.  The  result,  after  an  engagement 
of  nearly  two  hours,  was  a  loss  to  the 
latter  of  twenty-four  killed,  and  one 
hundred  and  eighty-nine  wounded  and 
missing.    The  British  loss  was  much 


larger,  sustaining  as  they  did  the  addi- 
tional fire  of  the  schooner. 

Before  daylight,  Jackson  took  up  his 
position  at  a  canal  two  miles  distant 
from  the  camp  of  the  enemy,  and  con- 
sequently within  four  of  the  city.  The 
canal  was  deepened  into  a  trench,  and 
the  earth  thrown  back  formed  an  em- 
bankment, which  was  assisted  by  the 
famous  cotton  bales,  a  device  that 
proved  of  much  less  value  than  has 
been  generally  supposed.  A  fortnight 
was  yet  to  elapse  before  the  final  and 
conclusive  engagement.  Its  main  inci- 
dents v/ere  the  arrival  of  General  Sir 
Edward  Pakenham,  the  commander-in- 
chief,  with  General  Gibbs,  in  the 
British  camp,  on  the  twenty-fifth,  bring- 
ing reinforcements  from  Europe;  the 
occupation  by  the  Americans  of  a  posi- 
tion on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river 
protecting  their  camp ;  the  destruction 
of  the  Carolina  by  red  hot  shot  on  the 
twenty-seventh;  an  advance  of  the 
British,  with  fearful  preparation  of 
artillery,  to  storm  the  works  the  fol- 
lowing day,  which  was  defeated  by  the 
Louisiana  sloop  advantageously  posted 
in  the  river,  and  the  fire  from  the 
American  batteries,  which  were  every 
day  gaining  strength  of  men  and  muni- 
tions ;  the  renewal  of  the  attack  with 
like  ill  success  on  the  first  of  January ; 
the  simultaneous  accession  to  the  Ame- 
rican force  of  over  two  thousand  Ken- 
tucky riflemen,  mostly  without  rifles ; 
a  corresponding  addition  to  the  enemy 
on  the  sixth,  and  a  general  accumula- 
tion of  resources  on  both  sides,  in  pre- 
paration for  the  final  encounter.  On 
the  eighth  of  January,  a  last  attempt 
was  made  on  the  American  front,  which 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


137 


exteiuled  about  a  mile  in  astraiirlit  line 
from  tlie  river  alouo;  tlie  canal  into  tlie 
wood.  The  plan  of  attack,  wliicli  was 
well  conceived,  was  to  take  possession 
of  the  American  work  upon  the  oppo- 
site bank  of  the  river,  turn  its  guns 
upon  Camp  Jackson,  and  under  cover 
of  this  diversion  scale  the  embankment, 
and  gain  possession  of  the  battery. 
The  first  was  defeated  by  the  want  of 
means,  and  loss  of  time  in  getting  the 
necessary  troops  across  the  river;  the 
main  attack,  owing  to  some  neglect, 
was  inadequately  supplied  with  scaling 
ladders,  and  the  troops  were  marched 
up  to  slaughter  from  the  murderous  fire 
of  the  artillerymen  and  riflemen  from 
behind  the  embankment.  Throughout 
the  whole  series  of  engagements,  the 
American  batteries,  mounting  twelve 
guns  of  various  calibre,  were  most  skil- 
fully served.  The  loss  on  that  day  of 
death  was  to  the  defenders  but  eight 
killed  and  thirteen  wounded ;  that  of 
the  assailants  in  killed,  wounded  and 
missing  exceeded,  in  their  official  re- 
turns, two  thousand.^  A  monument  in 
Westminster  Abbey  attests  the  regret 
of  the  British  public  for  the  death  of 
the  commander-in-chief,  a  hero  of  the 
Peninsular  war,  the  lamented  Paken- 
ham. 

Ten  days  after,  having  endured  vari- 
ous hardships  in  the-  meantime,  the 
British  army,  under  the  direction  of 
General  I^ambert,  took  its  departure. 
On  the  twenty-first,  Jackson  broke  up 
his  camp  with  an  address  to  his  troops, 
and  returned  to  New  Orleans  in  tri- 
umph.   On  the  twenty-third,  at  his 


'  Dawson's  Battles  of  the  United  States,  II.  419. 


request,  a  Te  Deum  was  celebrated  at 
the  cathedral,  when  he  was  received  at 
the  door,  in  a  pleasant  ceremonial,  by  a 
group  of  youug  ladies,  representing 
the  States  of  the  Union. 

The  conduct  of  Jackson  throuGrhout 
the  niouth  of  peril,  whilst  the  enemy 
was  on  the  land,  was  such  as  to  secure 
him  the  highest  fame  of  a  commander. 
He  had  not  been  called  upon  to  make 
any  extensive  manoeuvres  in  the  field, 
but  he  had  taken  his  dispositions  on 
new  ground  with  a  rapid  and  profound 
calculation  of  the  resources  at  hand. 
His  employment  of  Lafitte  and  his  men 
of  Barrataria,  the  smugglers  whom  he 
had  denounced  from  Mobile  as  "  hellish 
banditti,"  is  proof  of  the  sagacity  with 
which  he  accommodated  himself  to  cir- 
cumstances, and  his  superiority  to  pre- 
judice. They  had  a  character  to  gain, 
and  turned  their  wild  experience  of 
gunnery  to  most  profitable  account  at 
his  battery.  His  personal  exertions 
and  influence  may  be  said  to  have  won 
the  field ;  and  it  should  be  remembered 
in  v/hat  broken  health  he  passed  his 
sleepless  nights,  and  days  of  constant 
anxiety. 

The  departure  of  the  British  did  not 
relax  the  vigilance  of  the  energetic 
Jackson.  Like  the  Enoiish  Sti'aflford, 
his  motto  was  "  thorough,"  as  the  good 
people  of  New  Orleans  learnt  before 
this  aflPair  was  at  an  end.  He  did  not 
abate,  in  the  least,  his  strict  military 
rule,  till  the  last  possible  occasion  for 
its  exercise  had  gone  by.  It  was  con- 
tinued when  the  enemy  had  left,  and 
through  days  and  weeks  when  as- 
surance of  the  peace  news  was  estab- 
lished to  every  mind  but  his  own.  He 


138  ANDREW 

cliose  to  liave  certainty,  and  the  rigor 
of  tlie  game."    In  the  midst  of  the 
ovations  and  thanksgivings,  in  the  first 
moments  of  exultation,  he  signed  the 
death  warrant  of  six  mutineers,  de- 
serters, who  as  long  before  as  Septem- 
ber, had  construed  a  service  of  the  old 
legal  term  of  three  months  as  a  release 
from  their  six   months'  engagement; 
and  the  severe  oixler  was  executed  at 
Mobile.    In  a  like  spirit  of  military 
exactitude,  New  Orleans  being  still 
held  under  martial  laAV,  to  the  chafing 
of  the  citizens,  he  silenced  a  newspaper 
editor  who  had  published  a  premature, 
incorrect  bulletin  of  peace;  banished 
the  French  citizens  who  were  disposed 
to  take  refuge  from  his  jurisdiction  in 
their  nationality;  arrested  an  impor- 
tant personage,  M.  Louaillier,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  I^egislature,  who  argued  the 
question  in  print;   and  when  Judge 
Hall,  of   the   United   States  Court, 
granted  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus,  to 
bring  the  affair  to  a  judicial  investiga- 
tion, he  was  promptly  seized  and  im- 
prisoned  along  with  the  petitioner. 
The  last  affair  occurred  on  the  fifth  of 
March.    A  week  later,  the  official  news 
of  the  peace  treaty  was  received  from 
Washington,  and  the  iron  grasp  of  the 
general  at  length  relaxed  its  hold  of 
the  city.   The  civil  authority  succeeded 
to  the  military,  when  wounded  justice 
asserted  its  power,  in  turn,  by  summon- 
ing the  victorious  general  to  her  bar, 
to  answer  for  his  recent  contempt  of 
court.    He  was  unwilling  to  be  entan- 
gled in  legal  pleadings,  and  cheerfully 
paid  the  imposed  fine  of  one  thousand 
dollars.    He  was  as  ready  in  sul>mit- 
ting  to  the  civil  authority  now  that  the 


JACKSON. 

war  was  over,  as  he  had  been  decided 
in  exacting  its  obedience  Avhen  the 
safety  of  the  State  seemed  to  him  the 
chief  consideration.  Thirty  years  after, 
the  amount  of  the  fine,  principal  and 
interest  was  repaid  him  by  Congress. 

The  reception  of  the  victorious  de- 
fender of  New  Orleans,  on  his  return  to 
Nashville,  and  subsequent  visit,  in  au- 
tumn, to  the  seat  of  govei'nment,  was 
a  continual  ovation.  On  his  route,  at 
Lynchburgh,  in  Virginia,  he  was  met 
by  the  venerable  Thomas  Jefferson, 
who  toasted  him  at  a  banquet  of  citi- 
zens. The  administration,  organizing 
anew  the  military  defence  of  the  coun- 
try, created  him  major  general  of  the 
southern  division  of  the  army,  the 
whole  force  being  arranged  in  two  de- 
partments, of  which  the  northern  was 
assigned  to  General  Brown. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  name  of 
Jackson  was  again  to  fill  the  public 
ear,  and  impart  its  terrors  alike  to  the 
enemy  and  to  his  own  government. 
The  speck  of  war  arose  in  Florida, 
which,  what  with  runaway  negroes, 
hostile  Indians,  filibustering  adventu- 
rers, and  the  imbecility  of  the  Spanish, 
rule,  became  a  constant  source  of  irrita- 
tion to  the  adjoining  American  States. 
There  were  various  warlike  prelimina^ 
ries,  and  at  last,  towards  the  end  of 
181V,  a  murderous  attack  by  the  Semi- 
noles  upon  a  United  States  boat's  crew 
ascending  the  Appalacliicola.  General 
Jackson  was  called  into  the  field, 
charged  with  the  suppression  of  the 
waf.  Eager  for  the  service,  he  sj)rang 
to  the  work,  and  conducted  it  in  his 
o^vn  fashion,  ''taking  the  responsibil- 
ity" throughout,  summoning  volunteers 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


139 


to  accompany  liim  from  Tennessee  witli- 
ont  the  formality  of  the  civil  nnthorit}^, 
advancing  rapidly  into  Florida  after 
liis  arrival  at  the  frontier,  capturing  the 
Spanish  fort  of  St.  Marks,  and  push- 
ing thence  to  the  Suwanee.  General 
M'Intosh,  the  half-breed  who  accompa- 
nied his  march,  performed  feats  of 
valor  in  the  destruction  of  the  Semi- 
noles.    At  the  former  of  these  places, 
a  trader  from  New  Providence,  a  Scotch- 
man named  Arbuthnot,  a  superior  mem- 
ber of  his  class,  and  a  pacific  man,  fell 
into  his  hands ;  and  in  the  latter,  a  va- 
grant English  military  adventurer,  one 
Ambrister,    Both  of  these  men  were 
held  under  arrest,  charged  with  com- 
plicity with  the   Indian  aggi^essions, 
and  though  entii'ely  irresponsible  to 
the  American  commander  of  this  mili- 
tary raid,  were  summarily  tried  under 
his  order  by  a  court-martial  on  Spanish 
ten-itory,  at  St.  Marks,  found  guilty, 
and  executed  by  his  order  on  the  spot. 
He  even  refused  to  receive  the  recon- 
sideration of  the  court  of  its  sentence 
of  Ambrister,  substituting  stripes  and 
imprisonment  for  death.  Ambrister 
was  shot,  and  Arbuthnot  hung  from 
the  jwd-arm  of  his  own  vessel  in  the 
harbor.    During  the  remainder  of  Jack- 
son's life,  these  names  rans:  throua-h 
the  countiy  with  a  fearful  emphasis  in 
the  strife  of  parties.    Of  the  many 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  his  eulogists, 
this  is,  perhaps,  the  most  considerable. 
His  own  explanation,  that  he  was  per- 
forming a  simple  act  of  justice,  would 
seem,  with  his  j)revious  execution  of 
the  six  mutineers,  to  rest  upon  a  par- 
tial study  of  the  testimony ;  but  this 
responsibility  should  of  course  be  di- 


vided with  the  members  of  his  court- 
martial.  The  chief  remaining  events 
of  the  campaign  were  an  angry  corres- 
pondence with  the  governor  of  Georgia, 
in  resjiect  to  an  encroachment  on  his 
authority  in  oi-dering  an  attack  on  an 
Indian  village,  and  the  capture  of  Pen 
sacola,  in  which  he  left  a  garrison. 

Eeckoning  day  with  the  government 
was  next  in  order.  The  debate  in  Con- 
gress on  the  Florida  transactions  was 
long  and  animated,  Henry  Clay  bear- 
ing a  conspicuous  part  in  the  opposi- 
tion. The  resolutions  of  censure  were 
lost  by  a  large  majority  in  the  House. 
The  failure  to  convict  was  a  virtual  vote 
of  thanks.  Fortified  by  the  result,  the 
general,  who  had  been  in  Washington 
during  the  debate,  made  a  triumphal 
visit  to  Philadelphia  and  New  York. 
At  the  latter  place  he  M'as  presented 
with  the  freedom  of  the  city  in  a  gold 
box,  which,  a  topic  for  one  of  the  poets 
of  the  "croakers"  at  the  time,  has  be- 
come  a  matter  of  interest  since,  in  the 
discussion  growing  out  of  a  provision 
of  the  general's  will.  He  left  the  gift 
to  the  bravest  of  the  New  York  officers 
in  the  next  war."  It  was  finally  be- 
stowed, in  1850,  upon  General  Ward 
B.  Burnett,  the  colonel  of  a  New  York 
regiment  distinguished  in  the  Mexican 
war.  The  original  presentation  took 
place  at  the  City  Hall,  in  February, 
1819. 

The  protracted  negotiations  with 
Spain  for  the  purchase  of  Florida  being 
now  brought  to  an  end  by  the  acquisition 
of  the  country.  General  Jackson  was 
appointed  by  President  Monroe  the 
first  governor  of  the  Territory.  He 
was  present  at  the  formal  cession  at 


140  ANDREW 

Pensacola,  on  tlie  lYtli  of  July,  1821, 
and  entered  upon  liis  new  duties  with 
his  usual  vigor — a  vigor  in  one  instance, 
at  least,  humorously  disproportioned  to 
the  scene,  in  a  notable  dispute  with  the 
Spanish  governor,  in  the  course  of 
which  there  was  a  fresh  imbroglio  with 
a  United  States  judge,  and  the  foreign 
functionary  was  ludicrously  locked  up 
in  the  calaboose — all  about  the  deliv- 
ery of  certain  unimportant  papers. 
On  a  question  of  authority,  it  was 
Jackson's  habit  to  go  straight  forward 
without  looking  to  see  what  important 
modifying  circumstances  there  might 
be  to  the  right  or  left.  It  was  a  mili- 
tary trait  which  served  him  very  well 
on  important  occasions  in  war,  and  sub- 
sequently in  one  great  struggle,  that 
of  the  Bank,  in  peace;  but  in  smaller 
mixed  matters,  it  might  easily  lead  him 
astray.  For  this  Don  Callava's  com- 
edy, we  must  refer  the  reader  to  Mr. 
Parton's  full  and  entertaining  narra- 
tive— not  the  most  imposing,  but  cer- 
tainly not  the  least  instructive  portion 
of  his  book.  The  Florida  governor- 
ship was  not  suited  to  the  demands  of 
Jackson's  nature ;  his  powers  were  too 
limited  and  restricted ;  the  irritation  of 
the  Spanish  quarrel  was  not  calculated 
to  lighten  his  disease,  and  Mrs.  Jackson 
was  at  his  side  to  plead  the  superior 
claims  of  home.  Thither,  after  a  few 
months'  absence,  he  returned,  doubtless 
greatly  to  the  relief  of  the  Secretary  of 
State,  Mr.  Adams,  who  said  at  the  time 
to  a  friend,  "  he  dreaded  the  arrival  of 
a  mail  from  Florida,  not  knowing  what 
General  Jackson'  might  do  next."  ^  The 


'  Parton's  Jackson,  II.  639. 


JACKSON. 

remainder  of  General  Jackson's  life  may 
be  regarded  as  chiefly  political;  it  is 
rather  as  a  man  of  action  in  politics, 
than  as  a  theoretical  statesman,  in  any 
sense,  that  he  is  to  be  considered.  He 
had  certain  views  in  public  affairs  apart 
from  the  army,  which  were  more  mat- 
ters of  instinct  than  of  reflection  or 
argument.  The  two  great  trophies  of 
his  administrations,  his  course  towards 
South  Carolina  in  the  preservation  of 
the  Union,  and  his  victory  over  the 
interests  of  the  United  States  Bank, 
were  of  this  character.  They  were 
both  questions  likely  to  present  them- 
selves strongly  to  his  mind.  He  had 
an  old  republican  antagonism  to  |)aper 
money,  and  the  corruptions  of  a  large 
moneyed  corj)oration  allied  to  the 
government,  and  having  once  formed 
this  idea,  his  military  energy  came  in 
to  carry  it  out  through  every  available 
means  at  his  disposal. 

His  availability  for  the  Presidency 
was  based  upon  his  popularity  with 
the  people  wherever  they  had  fairly 
come  in  contact  with  him.  The  people 
above  all  other  qualities,  esteem  those 
of  a  strong,  earnest,  truthful,  straight- 
forward character.  They  admire  force 
and  unity  of  purpose,  and  require  hon 
esty.  Jackson  had  these  requisites  in 
perfection.  There  was  no  mistaking 
his  single  aim.  It  had  been  displayed 
on  a  field  where  nothing  is  hidden  from 
the  popular  eye,  where  it  is  even  dis- 
posed to  exaggeration  of  what  it  fairly 
takes  in.  In  producing  a  candidate  for 
popular  favor  in  an  ordinary  election,  a 
great  deal  is  to  be  done,  in  common 
cases,  in  bringing  the  public  to  an  un 
derstanding  of  his  claims.    His  reputa 


ANDREW 

tiou  has,  in  a  measure,  to  be  manufac- 
tured. Voters  liave  to  be  scliooled  to 
his  appreciation.  But  Jackson's  fame 
was  already  made— made  by  himself. 
Various  things  of  gi'eat  importance  to 
the  nation  were,  at  diiferent  times,  to 
be  done,  and  Jackson  had  accomplished 
them.  He  had  freed  the  land  from  the 
savage,  and  swept  the  invader  from  the 
soil.  He  had  been  charo-ed  with  some 
errors,  but,  granting  the  worst,  they 
had  no  taint  of  selfishness  or  fraud. 
If  he  Avas  over  rigorous  in  punishing 
deserters,  and  punctilious  in  his  mili- 
tary authority,  it  was  a  public  necessity 
which  nerved  his  resolution.  A  few 
might  be  sufferers  by  his  ill-directed 
zeal,  but  the  masses  saw  only  the  splen- 
dor of  a  righteous  indignation.  '  It  was 
for  them  the  work  was  done,  and  the 
penalty  incurred.  His  worst  private 
vice  was  that  of  a  duellist,  which  is 
always  more  apt  to  be  associated  with 
principles  of  honor,  than  its  frequent 
incentive,  unworthy  self  assertion. 

It  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  such  a 
man  should  be  summoned  to  the  Pre- 
sidency. He  was  nominated  by  the 
legislature  of  his  own  State  in  1823, 
which  sent  him  again  to  the  Senate, 
and  he  was  highest  on  the  list  of  the 
candidates  voted  for  the  following- 
year — he  had  ninety-nine  out  of  two 
hundred  and  sixty-one  votes — when 
the  election  was  carried  into  the  House 
of  Eepresentatives,  and  Adams  was 
chosen  by  the  influence  of  Henry  Clay. 
At  the  next  election,  he  was  borne  tri- 
umphantly into  the  office,  receiving 
more  than  double  the  number  of  votes 
of  his  antagonist,  Mr.  Adams.  The 
vote  was  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
u.— 18 


JACKSON.  141 

eight  to  eighty-three.  At  the  election 
of  1832,  the  third  time  Jackson's  popu- 
larity was  tested  in  this  way,  the  rote 
stood  for  Clay  forty-nine,  for  Jackson 
two  hundred  and  thirty-nine. 

The  record  of  these  eight  years  of 
his  Presidential  service,  from  1829  to 
1837,  is  the  modern  history  of  the 
democratic  party,  of  the  exertions  of 
its  most  distinguished  representatives, 
of  the  establishment  of  its  most  che- 
rished principles — its  anti-bank  creed 
in  the  overthrow  of  the  national  bank, 
and  origination  of  the  subtreasury 
system,  which  went  into  operation  with 
his  successor — the  reduction  of  the 
tariff — the  opposition  to  internal  im- 
provements— the  payment  of  the  na- 
tional debt.  In  addition  to  the  settle- 
ment of  these  long  agitated  questions, 
his  administration  was  signalized  l>y 
the  removal  of  the  Cherokees  from 
Georgia,  and  the  Creeks  from  Florida; 
while  its  foreign  policy  was  candid  and 
vigorous,  bringing  to  a  satisfactory 
adjustment  the  outstanding  claims  on 
France  and  other  nations,  and  main- 
taining friendly  relations  with  England. 
In  all  these  measures,  his  energetic  hand 
was  felt,  but  particularly  was  his  pecu- 
liar character  manifested  in  his  veto  of 
1832,  and  general  conduct  of  the  bank 
question,  the  collection  of  the  French 
indemnity,  and  his  enforcement  of  the 
national  authority  in  South  Carolina. 
The  censure  of  the  Senate  on  the 
28th  March,  1834,  for  his  removal  of  the 
deposits  of  the  public  money  from  the 
bank  as  "  an  assumption  of  authority 
and  power  not  confeiTed  by  the  Consti- 
tution and  laws,  but  in  derogation  of 
both  " — a  censure  supported  by  the  ex 


ANDREW 


JACKSON. 


traordinary  coalition  of  Calhoun,  Clay 
and  Webster,  measures  the  extent  of 
the  opposition  his  course  encountered 
in  Congress  ;  while  the  Expunging  Re- 
solution of  1837,  blotting  out  that  con- 
demnation, indicates  the  reception  and 
progress  of  his  opinions  with  the  seve- 
ral States  in  the  brief  interim.  The 
personal  attack  made  upon  him  in 
1835,  by  a  poor  lunatic  at  the  door  of 
the  Capitol,  "  a  diseased  mind  acted 
upon  by  a  general  outcry  against  a 
public  man,"  ^  may  show  the  sentiment 
with  which  a  large  portion  of  the  press 
and  a  considerable  popular  party  habit- 
ually treated  him. 

The  love  of  Andrew  Jackson  for 
the  Union  deserves  at  this  time  more 
than  a  passing  mention.  It  was  em- 
phatically the  creed  of  his  head  and 
heart.  He  had  no  toleration  for  those 
who  sought  to  weaken  this  great  in- 
stinct of  nationality.  No  sophism 
could  divert  his  understanding  from 
the  plainest  obligations  of  duty  to  his 
whole  country.  He  saw  as  clearly  as 
the  subtlest  logician  in  the  Senate 
the  inevitable  tendencies  of  any  argu- 
ment which  would  impair  the  alle- 
giance of  the  people  of  the  States 
to  the  central  authority.  He  could 
not  make  such  a  speech  as  Web- 
ster delivered  on  the  subject,  but  he 
knew  as  well  as  Webster  the  abyss 
into  which  nullification  would  plunge 
its  advocates.  His  vigorous  policy 
saved  his  own  generation  the  trials  to 
which  ours  has  been  subjected.  Had 
his  spirit  still  ruled  at  the  proper  mo- 
ment in  the  national  administration, 


we  too  might  have  been  spared  the  un- 
told evils  of  a  gigantic  rebellion.  It  is 
remarkable  that  it  was  predicted  by 
him — not  in  its  extent,  for  his  patriot- 
ism and  the  ardor  of  his  temperament 
would  not  have  allowed  him  to  imajxine 
a  defection  so  wide-spread,  or  so  la- 
mentable a  lack  of  energy  in  giving 
encouragement  to  its  growth — but  in 
its  motive  and  pretences.  When  nulli- 
fication was  laid  at  rest,  his  keen  in- 
sight saw  that  the  rebellious  spirit 
which  gave  the  doctrine  birth  was  not 
extinguished.  He  pronounced  the  tar- 
iff onl}^  the  pretext  of  factious  and 
malignant  disturbers  of  the  public 
peace,  "  who  would  involve  their  coun- 
try in  a  civil  war  and  all  the  evils  in 
its  train,  that  they  might  reign  and 
ride  on  its  whirlwinds,  and  direct  the 
storm."  Disunion  and  a  southern  con- 
federacy, and  not  the  tariff,  he  said, 
were  the  real  objects  of  the  conspira- 
tors, adding,  with  singular  sagacity, 
"  the  next  pretext  will  be  the  negro  or 
the  slavery  question."  ^ 

Eight  years  of  honorable  repose  re- 
mained to  the  victor  in  so  many  battles, 
military  and  political,  after  his  retire- 
ment from  the  Presidency.  They  were 
passed  in  his  seat  near  Nashville,  the 
home  of  his  happy  married  life,  but  no 
longer  cheered  by  the  warm-hearted, 
sincere,  devout  sharer  of  his  many 
trials.  That  excellent  wife  had  been 
taken  from  him  on  the  eve  of  his  first 
occupation  of  the  Presidential  chair, 
and  her  memory  only  was  left,  with  its 
inviting  lessons  of  piety,  to  temper  the 
passions  of  the  true-hearted  old  man  as 


»  Benton'a  Thirty  Years'  View,  I.  523. 


'  Letter  to  the  Roy.  Andrew  J,  Crawford.  Washing- 
ton, May  1,  1833. 


ANDREW  JACKSON. 


143 


Le  resifrncd  liimself  to  reli^'iou  and  tlie 
cares  of  anotlier  and  better  world.  He 
bad  early  adopted,  as  liis  own  son,  a 
nephew  of  his  wife,  and  the  child  grew 
iij)  always  fondly  cherished  by  him, 
bore  his  name  and  inherited  his  estate. 
"  The  Hermitage,"  the  seat  of  a  liberal 
hospitality,  never  lacked  intimates  dear 
to  him.  He  had  the  good  heart  of  Dr. 
Johnson  in  taking  to  his  home  and  at- 
taching to  himself  friends  who  grew 
strong  again  in  his  manly  confidence. 
Thus,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  tranquil 
old  age,  looking  back  upon  a  career 
which  belonged  to  history,  he  met  the 
increasing  infirmities  of  ill  health  with 
pious  equanimity^  a  member  of  the 
Presbyterian  church,  where  his  wife 
had  so  fondly  worshipped — life  slowly 
ebbing  from  him  in  the  progress  of  his 
dropsical  complaint — till  one  summer 
day,  the  eighth  of  June,  1845,  the  child 
of  the  Kevolution,  an  old  man  of  sev- 
enty-eight, closed  his  eyes  in  lasting 
repose  at  his  beloved  Hermitage. 

The  genius  and  peculiarities  of  An- 
drew Jackson  afford  a  tempting  subject 
for  the  pen  of  the  essayist.  His  reso- 
lute will,  strong,  fierce  and  irresistible, 
resting  upon  a  broad  honesty  of  natm^e, 


was  paramount.  It  was  directed  more 
by  feeling  and  impulse  than  by  educa- 
tion and  reflection  ;  consequently  there 
was  a  spice  of  egotism  even  in  its  pur- 
est resolves,  and  it  sometimes  took 
harsh  ways  to  good  ends.  Somehow 
or  other  it  generally  had  the  sanction 
of  success.  The  integrity  of  his  pub- 
lic life,  the  great  national  measures 
with  which  his  name  is  identified,  will 
throw  into  obscurity,  on  the  page  of 
history,  his  personal  weaknesses — the 
violence  o'f  his  temper,  his  oaths,  his 
quarrels  and  occasional  seeming  want 
of  magnanimity.  Strange  that  so  fin- 
ished and  courteous  a  gentleman  should 
at  times  have  been  so  rude  ! 

An  apology  has  been  found  in  the 
struggles  of  his  early  life,  the  rough 
frontier  society  into  which  he  was  in- 
troduced, and  the  lifelong  irritations  of 
disease.  That  in  despite  of  these  tan- 
gible defects,  he  should,  through  so 
great  a  variety  of  circumstances,  civil 
and  military,  have  controlled  so  many 
strong  and  subtle  elements,  and  have 
found  so  many  learned  and  able  men 
to  do  his  work  .and  assist  him  in  his 
upward  path,  is  the  highest  proof  of 
his  genius. 


HENRY 


CLAY. 


A  ciTRious  resemblance  lias  been 
traced,  by  an  ingenious  writer,  between 
many  points  in  the  personal  career  of 
Henry  Clay  and  Andrew  Jackson — • 
leaving  out,  of  course,  the  military  life 
of  the  hero  of  'Ney^  Orleans,  and  the 
remarkable  success  which  seemed  to 
be  bound  by  some  Jacksonian  law  to 
everything  which  he  undertook.  The 
main  points  of  the  comparison  are 
their  youthful  fortunes,  the  absence  of 
any  very  definite  education,  the  choice 
of  the  bar  for  a  profession,  the  early 
appearance  of  each  in  a  new  western 
region,  their  rapid  advancement  with 
its  growth  in  political  life,  their  popu- 
larity and  rule  in  two  adjacent  States. 
"  Both  early  impressed  themselves  upon 
the  community  around  them,  and  were 
distinguished  for  the  same  personal 
characteristics.  Both  rose  at  once  to 
posts  of  honor  and  distinction  ;  and  at 
an  early  age  enrolled  their  names,  and 
to  the  last  joreserved  them,  among  the 
first  and  highest  of  the  republic.  Both 
were  men  of  quick  perception,  of 
prompt  action,  of  acute  penetration,  of 
business  capacity,  of  masculine  common 
sense,  of  quick  and  unerring  judgment 
of  men,  of  singular  fertility  of  resour- 
ces, of  remarkable  power  to  create  or 
avail  themselves  of  circumstances,  of 
consummate   tact    and  management. 

144 


Both  were  distinguished  for  grace  and 
ease  of  manners,  for  happy  and  pol- 
ished address,  and  for  influence  over 
the  wills  and  affections  of  those  who 
came  within  the  circle  of  their  ac- 
quaintance and  associations.  Both 
were  of  lithe,  sinewy  and  slender  phy- 
sical conformation,  uniting  strength 
with  activity  and  great  powers  of  en- 
durance with  a  happy  facility  of  labor. 
Both  were  men  of  the  warmest  affec- 
tions, of  the  gentlest  and  most  concili- 
atino;  manners  in  social  intercourse 
when  they  wished  to  please,  of  truth 
and  loyalt/'and  steadfastness  in  friend- 
ship, bitter  and  defiant  in  their  enmi- 
ties, of  extraordinary  directness  in 
their  purposes,  of  patient  and  indefati- 
gable temper  in  following  out  their 
ends  or  waiting  for  their  accomplish- 
ment. Neither  could  brook  a  rival  or 
opposition,  and  each  had  the  imperial 
sj^irit  of  a  conqueror  not  to  be  subdued, 
and  the  pride  of  leadership  which 
could  not  follow.  They  were  Ameri- 
cans both,  intensely  patriotic  and  na- 
tional, loving  their  whole  country,  its 
honor,  its  glory,  its  institutions,  its 
union,  with  a  love  kindled  early  and 
quenched  only  in  death."  ^  These 
are  the   coincidences.    Our  narrative 


'  Party  Leaders,  by  J.  G.  Baldwin,  p.  282  3. 


HENRY 

uill  sliow  tlie  points  of  divergence, 
Avliich  were  many. 

Ileury  Cla}',  the  seventli  of  a  family 
of  eight  children,  was  born  April  12, 
1777,  in  Hanover  County,  Virginia,  in 
a  rural  district  abounding  in  swamps 
and  hence  known  as  "  The  Slashes,"  a 
term  which  gave  the  man  a  popular  de- 
signation in  the  Presidential  campaign- 
ing days.  His  father,  of  English  de- 
scent, a  Baptist  clergyman,  the  Rev. 
John  Clay,  a  native  of  Virginia,  died 
when  his  son  was  in  his  childhood,  in 
his  fifth  year,  just  as  the  Revolutionary 
war  was  brou2;ht  to  its  close  in  Vir- 
ginia,  leaving  the  boy  to  the  care  of  his 
mother.  The  orator  of  after  days  once 
recalled  in  a  speech  an  incident  of  his 
childhood,  how  his  mother's  house  was 
visited  by  the  troops  of  Tarleton,  and 
of  their  "runnino;  their  swords  into, 
the  new-made  grave  of  his  father  and 
grandfather,  thinking  they  contained 
hidden  treasures."  The  mother  was 
poorly  provided  with  the  means  for 
the  education  of  her  numerous  young 
family,  and  the  only  early  instruc- 
tion her  son  Henry  received  was 
in  the  rude  log  cabin  school-house 
where  but  the  simplest  rudiments  wei'e 
taught.  His  teacher,  Peter  Deacon,  an 
Englishman,  like  many  others  an  invo- 
luntary emigrant,  in  consequence  of  his 
fault  or  misfortune — "  under  a  cloud," 
as  it  is  said — conducted  the  child  "  as 
far  as  Practice,"  in  the  old  time-honored 
elements. 

The  "  Mill-boy  of  the  Slashes,"  the 
electioneerino;  sentimental  watchword 
to  which  we  have  just  alluded,  dates 
'  from  this  period.    "  It  had  its  founda- 
tion," says  his  biographer,  Mr.  Colton, 


CLAY.  145 

"  in  the  filial  and  fraternal  duty  of  Henry 
Clay,  who,  after  he  was  ))ig  enough, 
was  seen  whenever  the  meal  barrel  was 
low,  going  to  and  fro  on  the  road  be- 
tween his  mother's  house  and  Mrs.  Dar- 
ricott's  mill  on  the  Pamunkey  River, 
mounted  on  a  bag  that  was  thrown 
across  a  pony  that  was  guided  by  a 
rope-bridle ;  and  thus  he  became  fami- 
liai'ly  known  by  the  people  living 
on  the  line  of  his  travel  as  the  "  Mill- 
boy  of  the  Slashes." 

So  the  boy  grew  up  in  rude 
country  life  till,  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen, his  mother  contracting  a  second 
marriage  with  a  gentleman  of  charac- 
ter, Mr.  Henry  Watkins,  and  removing 
with  her  husband  to  Kentucky,  he  was 
left  behind  in  a  situation  in  a  retail 
store  at  Richmond.  He  was  not  long 
in  the  employment,  for  we  find  him  the 
next  year,  through  the  agency  of  his 
stepfather,  who  appears  to  have  appre- 
ciated the  lad,  en2:ao;ed  in  the  ofiice  of 
Mr.  Peter  Tinsley,  clerk  of  the  High 
Court  of  Chancery.  His  time  was  so 
well  spent  here,  gaining  the  reputation 
of  an  intelligent,  studious  youth,  intent 
upon  his  book,  while  others  were  at 
their  games  or  dissipations,  that  he 
was  so  fortunate  as  to  secure  the  atten- 
tion of  no  less  a  personage  than  the 
venerable  Chancellor  Wythe,  who,  it 
will  be  remembered,  also  exercised  an 
important  influence  over  the  early  years 
of  Jelferson.  The  chancellor,  whose 
trembling  hand  needed  assistance, 
struck  by  the  ability  of  the  youth, 
employed  him  as  his  amanuensis,  a 
position  which  brought  him  directly 
into  contact  with  the  superior  resour- 
ces of  one  of  the  most  cultivated  and 


146 


HENRY  CLAY. 


refined  uiincls  in  Virginia.  The  chan- 
cellor was  a  good  linguist,  eminently 
skilled  in  composition,  and  of  a  friendly 
turn  to  impart  liis  knowledge  to  liis 
assistant ;  so  that  tlie  copyist  became 
in  a  measure  liis  privileged  pupil.  The 
legal  reports  and  comments  which  he 
took  down  from  the  chancellor's  dicta- 
tion must  also  have  imparted  some 
familiarity  with  the  law.  From  Mr. 
Tinsley's  office  young  Clay  went  to  re- 
side with  Mr.  Robert  Brooke,  at  that 
time  attorney  general  of  the  State, 
with  whom  he  advanced  sufficiently 
far  in  the  study  of  the  law  to  secure  a 
license  in  the  Court  of  Appeals  to 
practise  the  profession.  With  this 
certificate,  the  only  property  which  he 
possessed,  he  set  out,  at  the  close  of 
1797,  to  seek  his  fortune  in  Kentucky. 
Alighting  at  Lexington,  then  a  small 
village,  but  the  most  important  place 
in  the  region,  he  opened  an  office  and 
beo-an  his  career  as  an  advocate.  His 
quickness  of  parts  and  ready  adaptabil- 
ity gave  him  immediate  success.  Nature 
had  bestowed  upon  him  a  fine  voice,  and 
those  mental  and  physical  harmonies 
indispensable  to  the  orator.  His  gen- 
ius led  him  to  cultivate  a  habit  of 
speaking,  which  with  experience  and 
development  ripened  into  the  highest 
eloquence.  His  method  early  in  life 
was  daily  to  read  in  some  historical  or 
scientific  book,  and  deliver  the  inform- 
ation which  he  thus  acquired  in  a  set 
speech,  alone  by  himself  in  the  woods 
or  fields,  or  some  lonely  barn  "with  the 
horse  and  ox  for  his  only  auditors." 
He  was  candid  enough  to  declare  this 
in  after  life  to  a  class  of  law  students, 
a  positive  assertion  of  what  may  al- 


ways 1)6  suspected,  that  eminent  suc- 
cess, even  with  men  of  genius,  is  never 
without  some  such  patient  skill  and 
labor  in  the  acquisition  of  its  powers. 
Even  the  rich  nature  of  Henry  Clay, 
which  lived  and  breathed  in  eloquence, 
required  some  training  of  its  wonder- 
ful faculties.  The  anecdote  is  told  of 
his  carrying  his  private  practice  into  a 
debating  society,  and  commencing : 
"  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,"  with  some 
embarrassment,  when  he  at  once,  on 
striking  into  the  subject,  carried  his 
hearers  along  on  a  tide  of  eloquence 
and  argument. 

A  speaker  of  these  persuasive  pow- 
ers, skilful,  ready,  fluent,  infusing  en- 
thusiasm into  his  argument,  became 
naturally  engaged  in.  criminal  prac- 
tice, in  the  defence  of  life,  where  a  jury 
might  be  moved  by  his  impressive  elo- 
quence. He  was  eminently  successful  in 
such  cases,  always,  it  is  said,  even  in 
the  most  desperate,  saving  the  life  of 
his  client.  His  ability  in  civil  cases 
was  equally  marked,  for  he  had  always 
a  rare  executive  talent  in  whatsoever 
he  undertook. 

It  was  inevitable  that  talents  such 
as  he  possessed,  in  a  new  country 
where  personal  influence  is  every- 
thing, should  draw  him  into  the 
sphere  of  public  life.  We  accordingly 
find  him,  the  very  year  of  his  removal 
to  Kentucky,  engaged  in  the  discussion 
of  the  provisions  for  the  State  con- 
stitution then  being  adjusted.  He 
strongly  advocated  a  clause  for  the 
gradual  emancipation  of  slaves,  fear- 
less of  the  unj)opularity  to  which  he 
subjected  himself.  The  following  year 
his  eloquent  voice  was  Ijeard  at  a  pub- 


HENRY  CLAY. 


147 


lie  gathering  in  denunciation  of  the 
Alien  and  Sedition  Laws  of  1798. 
Tiie  andience  was  addressed  by  Mr. 
George  Nicholas,  a  leading  member  of 
the  bar,  who  was  follo^ved  by  Mr, 
Clay.  The  topic,  involving  a  strong 
popular  appeal  to  liberty,  was  w^ll 
suited  to  his  ability ;  and  so  powerful- 
ly did  he  hold  the  attention  of  the  as- 
sembly, that  he  carried  it  for  a  time 
beyond  the  point  of  applause — to 
breathless  silence.  Both  speakers  were 
drawn  by  the  people  through  the  town 
in  triumph. 

Four  years  after  this,  Mr.  Clay  was 
chosen  a  member  of  the  Kentucky  le- 
gislature from  the  county  of  Fayette, 
and  distinguished  himself  in  the  pro- 
ceedings of  that  body,  his  practice  of 
the  law  meanwhile  growing  in  import- 
ance. It  was  a  maxim  with  him  never 
to  refuse  his  professional  assistance  to 
any  client  who  might  stand  in  need  of 
a  disinterested  and  fearless  advocate,  a 
resolution  which  was  tested  in  a  memo- 
rable instance,  in  his  appearing  in  an 
assault  and  battery  case,  in  behalf  of  a 
tavern-keeper  of  Frankfort,  against  Col. 
Daviess,  the  United  States  district  at- 
torney. Mr.  Clay  pushed  Lis  adversa- 
ry with  his  accustomed  boldness,  and 
was  challenged  by  the  colonel.  Keady 
as  Jackson  himself  to  meet  an  antao-o- 
nist  in  this  way,  he  waived  any  court 
privileges  which  he  might  have  plead- 
ed, and  accepted  it.  The  affair,  how- 
ever, was  happily  terminated  by  the 
mterposition  of  friends.  There  was  a 
like  generosity,  _  in  a  case  of  greater 
interest,  in  his  defence  of  Aaron  Burr, 
for  ^vhich  he  would  accept  no  fee, 
thinking  it  an  occasion  for  generos- 


ity toward  an  eminent  man  in  misfor 
tune.  He  fii-st,  howevei-,  received  a 
pledge  in  writing  fi-om  Burr  that  he 
had  no  treasonable  intent  in  his  pro- 
ceedings, and,  finding  afterward  that  he 
had  been  deceived,  received  Burr  so 
coldly  when  he  next  met  him,  some 
time  after  in  New  York,  that  the  ac- 
quaintance could  not  be  renewed. 

In  1806,  Mr.  Clay  was  chosen  l^y  the 
legislature  of  Kentucky  to  fill  a  vacan- 
cy in  the  United  States  Senate,  taking 
his  seat,  unchallenged,  before  his  thir- 
tieth year,  the  period  required  hj  the 
Constitution.  He  eno-ag-ed  at  once  ac- 
tively  in  the  business  of  the  session, 
advocating  thus  early  in  his  Congres- 
sional course,  a  system  of  internal  im- 
provements— which  became  afterwards 
so  important  a  test  of  his  political 
career.  The  term  which  he  had  been 
elected  to  supply  having  nearly  ex 
pired  on  his  entrance,  he  was  but  a  sin- 
gle session  in  the  Senate,  after  which 
he  was  again  returned  to  the  Kentucky 
legislature,  where  he  had  the  opportu- 
nity, pleading  for  the  common  law  with 
rare  eloquence  and  feeling,  to  defeat 
an  illiberal  motion  to  exclude  Ens-lish 
law  precedents  from  the  courts  of  the 
State.  When  the  first  measures  of 
Jefferson's  administration  on  the  em- 
bargo were  taken,  on  occasion  of  the 
promulgation  of  the  British  Orders 
in  Council,  he  introduced  resolutions 
strongly  approving  of  the  foreign  poli- 
cy of  the  government.  They  were  car- 
ried by  a  vote  of  sixty -four  to  one, 
Mr.  Humphrey  Marshall  constituting 
the  minority.  Shortly  after,  this  gen- 
tleman expressing  contempt  for  a  pro- 
position made  by  Mr.  Clay  for  mem- 


us 


HENRY  CLAY. 


bers  to  assist  the  measures  of  tlie 
time  by  di'essing  themselves  in  gar- 
ments of  native  manufacture,  a  quar- 
rel between  them  ensued,  which  re- 
sulted in  a  hostile  meeting.  Shots 
were  twice  exchanged,  Mr,  Mai'shall  in 
the  first  instance  and  Mr.  Clay  in  the 
second  being  slightly  wounded. 

At  the  close  of  1809,  Mr.  Clay  again 
took  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  a  second 
time  chosen  to  fill  a  vacancy.  The  first 
speech  which  he  delivered  was  after- 
wards referred  to  for  its  advocacy  of 
an  American  policy.  It  was  on  an  in- 
cidental amendment  to  an  appropria- 
tion for  munitions  of  war,  giving  pre- 
ference to  certain  articles  of  native 
groAvth  and  manufacture.  He  also  sup- 
ported Mr.  Madison  in  his  assertion  of 
the  claims  of  the  country  to  western 
Florida  as  an  integral  portion  of  the 
Louisiana  cession,  taking  occasion  to 
denounce  the  threatened  wrath  of  Eng- 
land. "  Is  the  rod  of  British  power," 
he  asked,  "to  be  forever  suspended  over 
our  heads  ?  Whether  we  assert  our 
rights  by  sea  or  attempt  their  mainte- 
nance by  land — whithersoever  we  turn 
ourselves,  this  phantom  incessantly  pur- 
sues us."  His  report  in  favor  of  the 
preemption  rights  of  settlers  on  the 
public  lands  may  also  be  mentioned  as 
an  indication  of  his  future  policy.  At 
the  next  session,  the  subject  of  the  re- 
newal of  the  charter  of  the  United 
States  Bank  being  before  Congress, 
he  spoke  in  opposition  to  the  measure, 
on  the  ground  of  the  old  Republican 
party,  with  which  he  was  thus  far  iden- 
tified. 

The  term  for  which  he  was  elected 
to  the  Senate   having  expired,  and 


his  services  beino;  needed  in  the  more 
popular  branch  of  the  legislature, 
at  the  appearance  of  the  cloud  of 
war  already  on  the  horizon,  he  was, 
in  1811,  elected  a  member  of  the 
House  of  Representatives.  To  meet 
the  exigency  of  the  times,  Congress 
was  summoned  a  month  in  advance, 
in  November.  On  the  first  ballot  on 
taking  his  seat,  Henry  Clay  was  chosen 
speaker,  a  distinguished  honor  for  a 
new  member,  and  a  rare  proof  of  the 
sagacity  of  the  members.  At  the  next 
Congress  the  honor  was  repeated,  and 
on  three  other  occasions  in  the  House 
of  Representatives.  His  apt,  ready, 
graceful  talents,  his  prompt  courtesy, 
and  readiness  in  all  parliamentary  du- 
ties, made  him,  of  all  men,  the  most 
suitable  for  the  ofiice.  His  views  in 
reference  to  the  vindication  of  the  coun- 
try by  a  spirited  foreign  policy  were  well 
understood,  and  he  carried  them  out  in 
his  appointment  of  the  Committee  on 
Foreign  Relations,  of  which  Porter  of 
New  York  was  placed  at  the  head,  and 
John  C.  Calhoun,  who  presently  suc- 
ceeded him  on  his  retirement,  second. 
Mr.  Clay  spoke  earnestly  in  favor  of 
the  increase  of  the  army  and  navy,  and 
advocated  the  new  embargo  as  "  a 
direct  precursor  of  Avar."  He  was  one 
of  the  young  and  fiery  spirits  of  the 
country  in  the  House — a  leader  with 
Calhoun — in  vindicating  and  stimulat- 
ing the  declaration  of  war,'  and  its  ear- 
nest prosecution.  "War  was  declared 
in  June,  and,  shortly  after,  Congress 
adjourned.  At  its  next  session  Mr, 
Clay,  on  the  eighth  of  January,  1813, 
delivered  a  speech  in  defence  of  the 
new  army  bill,  which  has  been  consi- 


TTRXRY  CLAY. 


149 


dered  one  of  his  most  eloquent  efforts. 
Unhappil}^  it  is  imperfectly  reported, 
but  enougli  remains  to  mark  liis  mas- 
tery of  the  occasion. 

Having  thus  so  greatly  distinguished 
himself  in  the  prosecution  of  the  war, 
when  a  prospect  of  peace  was  opened, 
through  the  friendly  assistance  of  the 
Russian  government,  he  was  chosen  en- 
voy extraordinary,  in  conjunction  with 
Mr.  Jonathan  Russell,  to  join  his  con- 
federates, Messrs.  Gallatin,  Bayard  and 
Adams,  who  were  already  in  Europe, 
in  the  negotiations.  He  accepted  this 
duty,  took  leave  of  the  House  as 
speaker  in  an  appropriate  address,  in 
January,  1814,  sailed  from  New  York 
immediately  after,  and  was  with  his 
colleagues  at  Ghent  at  the  opening  of 
negotiations. 

The  general  concurrence  of  the  en- 
voys in  the  proceedings  which  took 
place,  leaves  little  for  special  mention 
of  Mr.  Clay's  part,  beyond  his  resolute 
refusal  to  renew  the  concession  of  the 
•  treaty  of  1783  of  the  mutual  right  of 
navigation  of  the  Mississippi.  He 
thought  the  purchase  of  Louisiana  had 
since,  greatly  altered  the  question,  and 
that  the  river  had  become  as  peculiar  a 
part  of  the  United  States  as  the  Hud- 
son or  the  Potomac.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  old  treaty  had  given  to  the 
Americans  certain  fishing  privileges  on 
the  coast  of  British  America,  which 
hung  upon  the  same  tenure  as  the 
claim  to  the  navigation  of  the  Mississ- 
ippi, namely,  the  treaty  of  Paris.  The 
conflict  of  these  pretensions  divided 
the  commissioners,  when  Mr.  Clay  par- 
tially gave  his  consent  to  set  off  one 
against  the  other. 

n.— 19 


The  British,  however,  were  not  will- 
ing to  adopt  the  alternative,  and  both 
were  dropped.    In  personal  intercourse 
with  the  British  commissioners,  Mr. 
Goulburn  and  Lord  Gambler,  Mr.  Clay 
seems  to  have  borne  a  chief  part.  It 
fell  to  him  to  explain  the  awkward  cir- 
cumstance of  the  publication  in  Ameri- 
ca of  an  early  part  of  the  negotiations 
which  was  returned  to  England,  while 
the  treaty  was  yet  pending.    A  story 
is  told,  also,  of  his  receiving  one  morn- 
ing at  Brussels,  by  his  servant,  a  pack- 
age of  newspapers,  a  usual  courtesy, 
from  the  British  negotiators,  but  this 
time  rendered  more  interesting  by  the 
papers  containing  an  account  of  the 
burning  of  Washington.    He  not  long 
after  took  occasion  to  send  a  file  of 
newspapers  in  return,  having  some  in- 
telligence on  the  subject  of  the  Indians 
which  was  required  in  the  negotiation 
— the  same  papers  repaying  the  Wash- 
ington item  with  a  narrative  of  McDo- 
nough's  affair  at  Lake  Champlain.  The 
anecdote  is  of  no  great  importance,  but 
it  exhibits  the   sensitiveness  of  the 
American  negotiators.    Clay  said  after- 
wards, when  he  heard  at  Paris  of  the 
battle  of  New  Orleans,  the  treaty  hav- 
ing been  some  time  before  concluded, 
"  Now,  I  can  go  to  England  without 
mortification." 

At  this  visit  to  Paris,  the  period  of 
Bonaparte's  exile  at  Elba,  Mr.  Clay  was 
received  with  great  favor  in  society. 
Among  other  distinguished  persons 
whom  he  met  was  Madame  de  Stael, 
at  a  ball  given  by  M.  Hottinger,  the 
banker,  on  occasion  of  the  peace  be- 
tween the  United  States  and  Great  Bri- 
tain, when  the  following  dialogue  oc- 


150 


HENRY  CLAY, 


curred  :  "  Ah  !"  said  slie,  "  Mr.  Clay, 
I  liave  been  in  England,  and  have  been 
battling  your  cause  for  you  there."  "  I 
know  it  niadame ;  we  heard  of  your 
powerful  interposition,  and  we  are  very 
grateful  and  thankful  for  it."  "They 
were  very  much  enraged  against  you," 
said  she ;  "  so  much  so  that  they  at 
one  time  thought  seriously  of  sending 
the  Duke  of  Wellington  to  command 
their  armies  against  you!"  "I  am 
very  sorry,  madame,"  replied  Mr.  Clay, 
"  that  they  did  not  send  his  Grace." 
"Why?"  asked  she,  surprised.  "Be- 
cause, madame,  if  he  had  beaten  us 
we  should  only  have  been  in  the  con- 
dition of  Europe  without  disgrace. 
But  if  we  had  been  so  fortunate  as 
to  defeat  him,  we  should  greatly  have 
added  to  the  renown  of  our  arms." 
She  afterwards  introduced  Mr.  Clay 
to  the  duke  at  her  own  house,  and 
related  the  conversation.  The  duke 
replied,  that  "  if  he  had  been  sent  on 
the  service,  and  he  had  been  so  for- 
tunate as  to  gain  a  victory,  he  would 
have  regarded  it  as  the  proudest  fea- 
ther in  his  cap."  ^  On  passing  over 
to  England,  after  the  ratification  of 
the  treaty,  Mr.  Clay  was  equally  well 
received  by  Lord  Castlereagh.  Eng- 
land was  then  in  good  humor  with 
the  victory  of  Waterloo,  which  had 
just  been  fought.  Before  it  was  as- 
certained what  had  become  of  Bona- 
parte, Mr.  Clay  was  one  day  at  dinner 
with  the  nobleman  just  mentioned, 
and  the  possible  flight  of  the  emperor 
to  America  was  touched  upon.  "  If 
lie  goes  there  will  he  not  give  you  a 


'  Sargent's  Life  of  Clay,  p.  19. 


great  deal  of  trouble  ?"  said  Lord  Liv- 
erpool to  the  American  envoy.  "  Not 
in  the  least,  my  lord,"  was  the  reply : 
"  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  receive 
him ;  we  would  treat  him  with  all 
hospitality,  and  very  soon  make  a 
good  democrat  of  him." 

Mr.  Clay  arrived  again  at  New 
York,  in  September,  was  welcomed  in 
the  city  at  a  public  entertainment, 
and  pursued  to  his  home  in  Kentucky 
by  the  hospitality  and  enthusiasm  of 
the  people.  The  members  of  his  dis- 
trict had  already  elected  him  to  Con- 
gress, but  some  doubts  arising  as  to 
the  legality  of  the  proceeding,  he  was 
again  unanimously  chosen.  On  his 
appearance,  in  December,  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  House,  he  was  a  third 
time,  by  a  large  majority,  seated  in 
the  speaker's  chair.  It  is  pleasing  to 
note  the  constancy  and  unanimity  with 
which  this  honor  was  conferred  on  this 
accomplished  man  through  a  series  of 
years,  at  the  meetings  of  successive 
Congresses.  His  new  duties  proved  • 
not  less  important  than  those  which  he 
had  left  behind  him  in  bringing  the 
war  to  a  conclusion  by  a  treaty  of  peace. 
That  war  had  been  accomplished ; 
there  now  remained  the  revival  of  the 
country  after  the  wearisome  conflict, 
the  readjustment  of  its  finances,  the 
establishment  of  its  industry.  These 
became  especially  the  arts  of  our  states- 
man, loud  as  his  voice  had  been  for 
war,  and  well  adapted  as  his  genius 
was  for  its  active  pursuit.  It  is  said 
that  at  one  time,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  struggle,  President  Madison  thought 
of  calling  him  into  the  field  as  com- 
mander in  chief  of  the  American  forces. 


HENRY  CLAY. 


161 


He  doubtless  would  have  made  a 
brave  and  resolute  olRcer,  and  bis  cour- 
age and  rave  executive  talent  might 
have  anticipated  the  honors  and  reaped 
the  rewards  destined  for  his  Tennes- 
see rival.  r>ut  it  was  not  in  war 
that  his  laurels  were  to  be  trained. 
They  were  to  be  earned  in  quite  a  dif- 
ferent field.  AVhile  Jackson  passes 
down  to  posterity  as  the  defender  of 
New  Orleans,  Henry  Clay  will  be  re- 
membered as  the  friend  to  labor  and 
industry,  the  father  of  the  American 
System. 

In  the  Congress  of  1816,  Mr.  Clay 
began  that  policy  of  internal  improve- 
ments, protection  to  manufactures,  and 
bank  advocacy  w^hich  became  the  dis- 
tinguishing tests  of  the  great  party  of 
which  he  was  to  be  so  long  the  leader 
— a  party  enjoying  many  triumphs  and 
some  sore  defeats,  which  was  to  live 
mainly  through  him,  yet  by  which  he 
was  to  be  denied  in  its  period  of  au- 
thority, when  the  Presidency  was  in  its 
power,  his  well-earned  reward.  It 
must  be  admitted,  however,  that  the 
struggle  was  long,  and  that  no  party 
devotion  could  be  stronger  than  that 
manifested  by  the  Whigs  to  their  be- 
loved leader.  The  change  of  his  views 
on  the  subject  of  a  United  States 
Bank,  of  which,  having  formerly,  as 
we  have  seen,  been  the  opponent — we 
have  seen  it  stated  that  his  speech  of 
1811  was  the  stronghold  of  Jackson's 
memorable  opinions  on  that  subject — 
he  now  became  the  zealous  advocate  is 
to  be  accounted  for  on  the  principle  of 
that  old  philosophical  adage,  "The 
times  are  changed,  and  we  are  changed 
with  them."    A  national  bank  seemed, 


in  1816,  the  only  solution  of  the  finan- 
cial difficulties  of  the  times,  the  low 
state  of  the  public  credit  and  the  gene- 
ral disorganization  of  the  currency.  It 
was  accepted  as  such  Ijy  President  Ma- 
dison, who  recommended  the  measure, 
and  by  Mr.  Calhoun,  who  devoted  him- 
self zealously  to  the  subject,  and  intro- 
duced the  bill  to  the  House.  Mr.  Clay 
supported  it. 

At  the  next  election  Mr.  Clay,  for 
the  first  and  only  time  in  his  long 
career  as  a  representative  of  the  people 
of  his  State  in  Congress,  was  subjected 
to  the  test  of  canvassing  for  his  seat. 
A  bill  had  been  introduced  in  the 
House  for  which  Mr.  Clay  voted,  pro- 
viding an  annual  salary  of  fifteen  hun- 
dred dollars  for  members  in  place  of 
the  old  six  dollars  a  day,  and  giving  to 
the  speaker  a  salary  of  three  thousand 
dollars.  This  provoked  opposition  in 
Kentucky,  and  Mr.  Clay  was  obliged 
to  take  the  stump.  Mr.  Pope  was  his 
competitor.  Several  good  stories  are 
related  of  the  canvass — one  of  a  char- 
acteristic w^estern  dialogue  with  an  old 
hunter,  whom  the  candidate  circum- 
vented by  a  judicious  appeal  to  his 
rifle.  "Have  you  a  good  rifle,  my 
friend?"  asked  Mr.  Clay.  "Yes." 
"Did  it  ever  flash?"  "Once  only." 
"  Did  you  throw  it  away  on  that  ac- 
count ?"  "  No,  I  picked  the  flint  and 
tried  it  again."  "  Have  I  ever  flashed 
but  upon  the  compensj^tion  bill  ?" 
"  No."  "  Will  you  throw  me  away  ?" 
"  No,  no  ;  I  will  pick  the  flint  and  try 
you  again."  A  story  coupled  with 
this  in  the  campaign  biographies  is  still 
better.  It  should  be  premised  that 
Mr.  Pope,  the  opposition  candidate. 


152 


HENRY  CLAY. 


had  in  his  early  days  lost  an  arm. 
There  was  an  Irish  barber  in  Lexing- 
ton, one  Jeremiah  Murphy,  whom  Clay 
on  sofne  occasion  had  helped  out  of 
prison,  who  was  observed,  contrary  to 
the  loquacious  habits  of  his  race,  to  be 
silent  on  the  subject  of  his  vote.  A 
friend  of  Clay  was  bent  upon  sound- 
ino-  him,  and  at  length  obtained  an 
answer.  "  I  tell  you  what,  docthur, 
I  mane  to  vote  for  the  man  that  can 
put  but  one  hand  into  the  treasury." 
Clay  was  elected  over  his  opponent, 
and  took  his  seat,  again  to  be  elected 
Speaker  in  the  new  Congress.  It  was 
the  first  session  under  the  administra- 
tion of  Mr.  Monroe,  and  is  signalized 
in  the  history  of  Mr.  Clay  by  his 
efforts  in  behalf  of  the  recognition  by 
the  government  of  the  political  inde- 
pendence of  the  South  American  Ke- 
publics.  He  undertook  this  champion- 
ship with  a  chivalric  earnestness,  and 
resolutely  as  ever  political  knight  errant 
tilted  for  a  favorite  measure,  pursued  it 
to  the  end  and  victory.  He  had  bro- 
ken ground  on  this  theme  in  his  speech 
on  the  state  of  the  Union,  in  January, 
1816  ;  he  now  followed  it  up  at  every 
opportunity,  when  the  conduct  of  Sj)ain 
in  the  Florida  claim  was  under  discus- 
sion, and  when  an  appropriation  for 
the  Commissioners  of  Inquiry  sent  to 
South  America  was  before  the  House. 
He  would  have  a  minister  accredited 
to  the  Independent  Provinces  of  La 
Plata.  His  speech  on  this  occasion, 
singled  out  as  one  of  his  masterpieces, 
was  delivered  in  March,  1818  ;  but  the 
end  he  desired  was  not  gained.  Lie 
did  not  lose  sight  of  it ;  but  it  was  not 
till  February,  1821,  that  he  had  the 


satisfaction  of  introducing  his  resolu- 
tion pledging  the  House  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  President  when  he  should 
deem  it  expedient  to  recognize  the  in- 
dependence of  the  Provinces,  and,  after 
battling  it  in  a  private  debate,  seeing 
it  at  last  triumphant.  The  President 
acted  in  accordance  with  the  intima-  ♦ 
tion  in  bringing  the  matter  directly 
before  the  House,  which  adopted  the 
measure  with  but  one  dissenting  voice. 

The  conduct  of  this  question  was 
highly  creditable  to  Clay's  disinterest- 
ed feeling.  "  His  zeal  in  the  cause," 
as  his  biographer  remarks,  "  was  unal- 
loyed by  one  selfish  impulse,  or  one 
personal  aim.  He  could  hope  to  gain 
no  political  capital  by  his  course.  He 
appealed  to  no  sectional  interest,  sus- 
tained no  party  policy,  labored  for  no 
wealthy  client,  secured  the  influence 
of  no  man,  or  set  of  men,  in  his  cham- 
pionship of  a  remote,  unfriended  and 
powerless  people."  ^  In  a  like  spirit, 
some  years  after,  in  1823,  he  brought 
his  eloquence  to  the  aid  of  Mr.  Webster, 
in  his  advocacy  of  the  recognition  of 
Greece  in  her  struggle  for  indepen- 
dence. In  reference  to  the  threatened 
danger  from  the  measure  to  our  com- 
merce in  the  Mediterranean,  he  said  "  a 
wretched  invoice  of  figs  and  opium  has 
been  spread  before  ns  to  repress  our 
sensibilities  and  eradicate  our  human- 
ity. All,  sir,  'what  shall  it  profit  a 
man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and 
lose  his  own  soul  V  or  what  shall  it 
avail  a  nation  to  save  the  whole  of  a 
miserable  trade  and  lose  its  liberties  ?" 

In  the  discussion  of  the  Missouri 


'  Sargent's  Clay,  p.  25. 


HENRY 

question,  Mr.  Clay  bore  a  prominent 
part.  lie  was  opposed  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  slavery,  and  labored  earnestly 
to  impress  Lis  views  upon  tlie  House, 
wliicli,  by  a  small  majority,  maintained 
the  contrary  opinion.  We  first  hear 
of  him  at  this  time  in  connection  with 
a  Avord  with  which  his  fame  was  to 
be  afterwards  identified — Compromise. 
The  House,  after  accepting  the  unre- 
stricted admission  of  the  State  in  the 
Missouri  bill,  and  what  is  known  as 
the  Missouri  Compromise,  establish- 
ing the  northern  limit  of  slavery, 
became  irritated  by  a  clause  in  the 
Missouri  constitution,  proposing  to  ex- 
clude free  neo-roes  and  mulattoes  from 
the  State.  To  meet  this  difiiculty,  and 
any  question  of  the  violation  of  the 
right  of  citizenship  which  might  be 
involved  in  the  condition,  Mr.  Clay, 
as  chairman  of  a  committee  which  he 
had  proposed,  brought  forward  a  reso- 
lution admitting  the  State,  provided 
that  no  law  was  to  be  passed  prevent- 
ing the  settlement  of  persons  citizens 
of  any  other  State.  The  resolution 
was  negatived  at  the  time,  but  he 
shortly  after  moved  a  joint  commit- 
tee of  the  House  and  Senate,  which 
was  accepted  and  the  admission  ad- 
justed substantially  on  his  basis. 

Before  this  question  was  determined, 
Mr.  Clay,  anxious  to  give  attention  to 
his  fortunes  at  home,  had  resigned  his 
seat  in  the  House,  but  was  prevailed 
upon  to  retain  it  till  the  conclusion  of 
this  struggle,  one  of  the  severest  in  the 
annals  of  Congressional  warfare.  He 
then  retired  and  devoted  himself  to 
liis  professional  labors  for  nearly  three 
years,  when  he   was   again  elected, 


CLAY.  153 

without  opposition,  to  the  House  of 
Kepresentatives,  of  which  he  became 
}'et  once  more  Speaker.  It  -was  the 
time  of  Lafayette's  passage  through 
the  country,  in  1824,  and  when  the 
chieftain  visited  Washington,  it  fell  to 
the  Speaker  to  welcome  him  to  the 
House.  Most  gracefully  was  the  duty 
discharged,  in  an  address  which,  though 
brief,  was  charged  with  flowing  elo- 
quence. Few,  if  any,  of  the  orators 
in  Congress  could,  like  Mr.  Clay,  in 
so  few  words,  embark  his  audience  on 
a  swelling  tide  of  sentiment.  Set  off 
by  his  musical  utterance,  the  charm 
was  doubly  assured.  "  The  vain  wish 
has  been  sometimes  indulged,"  was  his 
language  in  this  admired  composition, 
"  that  Providence  would  allow  the 
patriot,  after  death,  to  return  to  his 
country  and  to  contemplate  the  inter- 
mediate changes  which  had  taken 
place — to  view  the  forests  felled,  the 
cities  built,  the  mountains  levelled,  the 
canals  cut,  the  highways  constructed, 
the  progress  of  the  arts,  the  advance- 
ment of  learning,  and  the  increase  of 
population.  General,  your  present  visit 
to  the  United  States  is  a  realization  of 
the  controlling  object  of  that  wish. 
You  are  in  the  midst  of  posterity. 
Everywhere  you  must  have  been  struck 
with  the  great  changes,  physical  and 
moral,  which  have  occurred  since  you 
left  us.  Even  this  very  city,  bearing 
a  venerated  name,  alike  endeared  to 
you  and  to  us,  has  since  emerged  from 
the  forest  which  then  covered  its  site. 
In  one  respect  you  find  us  unaltered, 
and  that  is  in  the  sentiment  of  conti- 
nued devotion  to  liberty,  and  of  ardent 
affection  and  profound  gratitude  to 


151 


HENRY  CLAY. 


your  departed  friend,  the  Fatlier  of  his 
Country,  and  to  you  and  your  illustri- 
ous associates  in  tlie  field  and  in  tlie 
cabinet,  for  tlie  multiplied  blessings 
wliicli  surround  us,  and  for  the  very 
privilege  of  addressing  you,  vs^hich  I 
now  exercise.  This  sentiment,  now 
fondly  cherished  by  more  than  ten  mil- 
lions of  people,  will  be  transmitted 
with  unabated  vigor,  down  the  tide 
of  time,  through  the  countless  millions 
who  are  destined  to  inhabit  this  conti- 
nent, to  the  latest  posterity." 

The  j)opularity  of  Mr.  Clay,  the  na- 
tionality of  his  views,  and  above  all, 
his  constant  devotion  to  public  life, 
marked  him  out,  distinctly  as  Andrew 
Jackson  himself,  in  the  line  for  the 
Presidency.  In  the  election  of  1824 
both  were  for  the  first  time  in  the  field, 
John  Quincy  Adams,  and  Crawford,  of 
Georgia,  being  the  other  candidates. 
Clay  was  nominated  by  his  friends  in 
Kentucky,  and  other  western  States. 
The  electoral  vote  was  ninety-nine  for 
Jackson,  eighty-four  for  Adams,  forty- 
one  for  Crawford,  and  thirty-seven  for 
Clay — the  votes  of  Ohio,  Missouri, 
Kentucky,  and  four  from  New  York. 
No  one  having  the  necessary  majority, 
the  choice,  according  to  the  provision 
of  the  Constitution,  was  to  be  made  by 
the  House  of  Representatives  from  the 
three  highest.  Mr.  Clay  was  conse- 
quently excluded,  but  he  held  the  con- 
trol of  the  election  in  the  vote  of  Ken- 
tucky, which  was  cast  for  Adams,  and 
consequently  against  Jackson,  Crawford 
being  removed  from  the  arena  by  a 
fatal  illness.  This  preference  of  Adams 
by  Clay  was  considered  a  violation  of 
party   allegiance  by  his  democratic 


friends,  and  naturally  rendered  hira 
odious  to  the  disapj)ointed  Jacksonites, 
whose  principle,  controlled  by  the  iron 
will  of  their  chief,  was  always  to  be  un- 
sparing to  their  political  opponents. 

The  storm  rose  still  higher  when 
Mr.  Clay  accepted  office  under  Adams 
as  Secretary  of  State — an  error  of  pol- 
icy, as  he  afterwards  admitted,  for  it 
drew  upon  him  a  charge  of  bargaining 
and  corruption,  of  being  bought  over 
to  the  interests  of  the  candidate  whom 
his  vote  had  elected,  by  this  prize  of 
office.  Conscious  of  his  own  integrity 
in  the  matter,  he  said,  when  the  admi- 
nistration he  had  served  had  long 
passed  away,  he  had  "  underrated  the 
power  of  detraction  and  the  force  of 
ignorance."  If  the  detractors  had 
stopped  to  consider,  they  might  have 
found  honorable  grounds  for  his  pre- 
ference. He  had  already  placed  him- 
self in  a  certain  antagonism  to  Jackson 
by  his  speech  in  1819,  in  the  House,  in 
favor  of  rebuking  the  assumptions  of 
power  by  the  military  chieftain  in  the 
Seminole  war ;  and  though  his  course 
on  that  occasion  was  purely  patriotic, 
with  no  unfriendly  feeling  to  the  man, 
his  judgment  of  his  qualifications  for 
the  Presidency  could  not  fail  to  be  in- 
fluenced by  the  issue.  He  doubtless 
also  looked  upon  Adams  as  one  more 
likely  to  pursue  his  own  favorite  pol- 
icy of  internal  improvements  and  do- 
mestic manufactures.  As  for  any  bar- 
gain in  the  case,  it  was  disproved  by 
Clay's  avowed  preference  of  Adams  to 
Jackson  before  the  occasion  arose.^ 
Nothing  could  be  more  natural  than 
that  Mr.  Adams  should,  on  his  own 
account,  seek  to  support  his  adminis- 


HENRY 

tration  by  tlie  services  of  sucli  a  man 
as  Mv.  Clay,  iu  the  office  of  Secretary 
of  State. 

For  the  time,  however,  the  enemies 
of  the  new  secretary  had  the  ear  of  the 
public.  An  occasion  arose  in  the  sec- 
ond year  of  the  administration  which 
brought  the  matter  to  a  personal  issue. 
We  have  seen  Mr.  Clay's  advocacy  of 
the  independence  of  the  South  American 
Republics.  In  accordance  with  his  old 
views,  he  was  now  bent  upon  a  further 
association  with  their  cause  in  the  pro- 
motion of  a  great  cis-Atlantic  Ameri- 
can policy  in  the  appointment  of  a  de- 
legation to  the  congress  at  Panama, 
Avhich  was  invited  by  the  Mexican  and 
Central  American  representatives  at 
"Washington.  John  Randolph,  whose 
genius  had  often  been  in  opposition  to 
Mr.  Clay,  opposed  the  measure  with 
the  full  force  of  his  argument  and  in- 
vective. In  a  speech  in  the  Senate  he 
went  so  far  as  to  throw  out  an  intima- 
tion that  the  "  invitation "  to  action 
proceeded  from  the  office  of  the  Secre- 
tary of  State,  and  in  an  allusion  of 
great  bitterness,  denounced  the  union 
of  Adams  and  Clay  coalition 
of  Blifil  and  Black  George,  a  combin- 
ation, unheard  of  till  then,  of  the  puri- 
tan with  the  blackleg."  The  venom 
of  the  attack,  pointing  a  charge  of 
fraud  with  such  cunning  emphasis, 
brought  from  Mr.  Clay  a  challenge. 
It  was  accepted  by  Randolph,  and  the 
duel  was  fought  on  the  banks  of  the 
Potomac.  The  first  fire  of  neither  took 
effect,  though  both  shots  were  well 
aimed.  At  the  second,  Mr.  Clay's  bul- 
let pierced  his  antagonist's  coat.  Ran- 
dolph, as  he  had  all  along  intended, 


CLAY.  155 

though  he  was  diverted  from  this 
course  in  the  first  instance,  fired  his 
pistol  in  the  air,  upon  which  Mr.  Clay 
advanced  with  great  emotion,  exclaim- 
ing, "  I  trust  in  God,  my  dear  sir,  you 
are  untouched ;  after  what  has  occurred, 
I  would  not  have  harmed  you  for  a 
thousand  worlds."  ^  It  was  a  duel 
which  should  not  have  been  fought ; 
there  was  no  hate  between  two  such  chi- 
valrous opponents,  who  understood  one 
another's  better  qualities,  and  the  joy 
at  the  harmless  termination  of  the 
affair  was  sincere  on  both  sides. 
Years  after,  when  Randolph  was  about 
leaving  Washington  for  the  last  time, 
just  before  his  death,  he  was  brought 
to  the  Senate.  "  I  have  come,"  he 
said,  as  he  was  helped  to  a  seat  while 
Clay  was  speaking,  "  to  hear  that 
voice."  The  courtesy,  burying  long 
years  of  political  controvei'sy,  was  met 
at  the  conclusion  of  his  remarks  with 
his  accustomed  magnanimity  by  the 
orator.  "Mr.  Randolph,  I  hope  you 
are  better,  sir,"  he  said,  as  he  ap- 
proached him.  "  No,  sir,"  was  the 
reply  ;  "  I  am  a  dying  man,  and  I  came 
here  expressly  to  have,  this  interview 
Avith  you."  The  sun  of  that  brilliant 
existence,  a  checkered  day  of  darkness 
and  splendor,  went  not  down  upon  his 
wrath.  It  was  the  spring  of  1833 
when  this  memorable  incident  occurred, 
the  period  when  Mr.  Clay  was  advo- 
cating the  compromise  of  the  tariff,  to 
save  the  country  from  what  appeared 
to  him  impending  civil  war.  Ran- 
dolph, in  one  of  his  county  Virginia 
S23eeches,  had  previously  pointed  to  the 

'  Garland's  Life  of  John  Randolph,  II.  260. — Benton's 
Thirty  Years'  View,  I.  76. 


156 


HENRY  CLAY. 


Kentucky  orator  for  this  service. 
"  There  is  one  man,"  said  he,  "  and  one 
man  only,  who  can  save  this  Union : 
that  man  is  Henry  CLay.  I  know  he 
has  the  power ;  I  believe  he  will  be 
found  to  have  the  patriotism  and  firm- 
ness equal  to  the  occasion."  ^ 

Previously  to  that,  however,  a  new 
administration  was  to  enter  on  the 
scene.  Mr.  Clay,  having  filled  the 
office  of  Secretary  of  State  with  emi- 
nent usefulness  to  the  country,  particu- 
larly in  the  management  of  the  foreign 
questions  of  trade  and  negotiation 
which  arose,  retired  with  the  ill-fated 
Adams  to  make  way  for  the  victorious 
hero  of  New  Orleans.  The  retirement 
of  the  secretary,  however,  in  face  of 
the  new  power,  was  not  without  its 
consolations  in  the  tributes  of  his 
friends  and  the  public.  On  his  way  to 
his  home  at  Ashland — he  had  married 
on  his  first  ai-rival  in  the  country,  and 
had  now  a  rising  family  around  him — 
he  Avas  received  everywhere  with  en- 
thusiasm. The  citizens  of  Lexino:ton, 
following  the  example  of  other  towns 
on  his  route,  gave  him  a  complimentary 
banquet. 

Like  honors  were  paid  the  politician 
in  retirement,  on  occasion  of  a  family 
visit  to  New  Orleans,  at  that  city  and 
along  his  route.  Powers  like  his,  how- 
ever, were  not  long  to  rest  unused  in 
the  service  of  the  State.  At  the  close 
of  1831  he  Avas  elected  to  the  Senate, 
and,  about  the  same  time,  nominated 
for  the  Presidency  by  the  National  Re- 
pul>lican  Convention  at  Baltimore.  In 
the  Senate  he  advocated  the  recharter  of 


'  Garland's  R^indolph,  11.  362. 


the  United  States  Bank,  which  was  car- 
ried, and  then  vetoed  by  the  President. 
He  also  set  forth  at  length  the  principles 
of  his  American  system  of  Protection,  in 
the  discussion  on  the  tariff,  which  end- 
ed favorably  to  his  policy.  Some 
amendments  were  made,  relieving  non- 
protected articles,  but  the  concession 
did  not  satisfy  the  growing  hostility  of 
the  South.  The  South  Carolina  Nulli- 
fication resolutions  passed  in  November, 
1832,  were  followed  by  the  famous 
Proclamation  of  Jackson  in  December, 
and  the  Force  Bill  in  the  Senate  of  the 
ensuing  January.  At  this  moment, 
realizing  the  prediction  of  Randolph 
already  cited.  Clay  in  February  intro- 
duced his  Compromise  bill,  providing 
for  a  gradual  reduction  of  the  obnox- 
ious tariff.  It  was  accepted  in  the 
emergency  by  all  parties  in  the  country, 
and  the  threatened  storm  passed  over. 

In  the  mean  time  the  Presidential 
election  had  occurred,  demonstrating 
an  extraordinary  advance  in  the  popu- 
larity of  the  omnipotent  Jackson.  The 
contest  was  between  him  and  Clay, 
the  latter  receiving,  out  of  two  hun- 
dred and  eighty-eight,  but  forty-nine 
votes — those  of  Massachusetts,  Rhode 
Island,  Connecticut,  Delaware,  Mary- 
land and  Kentucky.    Thus,  strongly 
fortified,  Jackson  commenced  his  sec- 
ond term,  inaugurating  his  new  rule 
by  his  much  discussed  act,  the  removal 
of  the  deposits  from  the  Bank  of  the 
United  States.    It  created  a  storm  of 
opposition,  as   a  violent,  unconstitu- 
tional act,  which  found  vent  in  the 
Senate  in  Mr.  Clay's  resolution  of  cen- 
sure, introduced  at  the  opening  of  the 
new  Congress,  and  with  some  modifica- 


turn  adopted  in  tlie  following  Mai'cli ; 
the  famous  resolution  wliieli  became 
the  subject  of  Mr.  Benton's  slow  and 
pertinacious  hostility  till  he  triumphed 
in  the  passage  of  his  -Expunging  Act. 
JS"ot  even  the  eloquence  of  Clay,  exert- 
ed to  the  last,  could  resist  the  well 
ordered  drill  of  the  Jackson  parlia- 
mentary forces.  Previously  to  the 
winter  session  of  1833,  Mr,  Clay  made 
a  visit  to  the  northern  cities  of  the  sea- 
board, extending  his  journey  as  far  as 
Boston.  It  was  one  continued  popular 
triumph.  Had  he  occupied  the  Presi- 
dential chaii'  he  could  have  received 
no  more  attention.  There  was  always 
something  in  the  man  which  inspired 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  people. 

In  1835  Mr.  Clay  was  enabled  to 
render  a  signal  service  'to  the  country 
by  the  interposition  of  his  report  as 
chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Foreign 
AflPairs,  checking  the  prompt  measures 
of  Jackson  for  the  recovery  of  the 
debt  due  from  France,  and  giving  that 
nation  an  op23ortunity  of  reconsidering 
its  legislation — a  delay  which  resulted 
in  the  payment  of  the  debt,  in  place  of 
a  fierce  and  exj^ensive  war.  A  third 
time  did  Mr.  Clay  thus  perform  the 
part,  in  Congress,  of  the  great  pacifica- 
tor. On  the  conclusion  of  his  senator- 
ial term  he  was  again  chosen,  and  con- 
tinued in  the  office  to  the  completion 
of  the  new  period  in  1842.  Harrison 
meanwhile  had  come  into  office,  having 
received  the  nomination  of  the  Harris- 
burg  Convention  over  Clay,  who  was 
a  popular  candidate,  and  Mr.  Tyler 
had,  in  a  short  month,  fallen  heir  to 
the  Presidency.  The  whig  party,  led 
by  Clay,  was  for  a  time  in  the  ascend- 
n.— 20 


CLAY.  157 

ant,  but  its  measures  were  steadily  re-* 
sisted  by  the  new  President. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  the  memory  of 
Henry  Clay,  in  the  briefest  narrative 
of  his  career,  not  to  pause  at  his  sol- 
emn, aftecting  leave-taking  of  the  Sen- 
ate. It  was  ins})ired  throughout  by 
feeling  and  manly  courtesy,  and,  deli- 
vered with  his  graceful  elocution, 
affected  his  audience  to  tears.  No  act 
of  the  kind  was  ever  performed  with 
more  genuine  emotion.  The  rich  na- 
ture of  the  man,  ardent,  lofty,  sympa- 
thetic, was  poured  forth  in  one  contin- 
ued strain  of  touching  eloquence.  He 
spoke  of  his  long  public  duties,  of  the 
trials  and  rewards  of  his  career,  of  the 
motives  which  had  nerved  him  and 
of  the  kindness  with  which  he  had 
been  received.  His  tribute  to  Ken- 
tucky was  an  outburst  of  gratitude 
which  the  State  should  cherish  among 
her  proudest  records.  "  Everywhere," 
said  he,  "  throughout  the  extent  of  this 
great  continent,  I  have  had  cordial, 
warm-hearted,  faithful  and  devoted 
friends,  who  have  known  me,  loved 
me,  and  appreciated  my  motives.  To 
them,  if  language  were  capable  of  fully 
expressing  my  acknowledgments,  I 
would  now  offer  all  the  return  I  have 
the  j)ower  to  make  for  their  genuine, 
disinterested,  and  persevering  fidelity 
and  devoted  attachment,  the  feelings 
and  sentiments  of  a  heart  ovei^flowing 
with  never-ceasing  gratitude.  If,  how- 
ever, I  fail  in  suitable  language  to  ex- 
press my  gratitude  to  them  for  all  the 
kindness  they  have  shown  me,  what 
shall  I  say,  what  can  I  say  at  all  com- 
mensurate with  those  feelings  of  grati- 
tude with  which  I  have  been  inspired 


158  HENRY 

%y  the  State  wliose  humble  representa- 
tive and  servant  I  liave  been  in  tliis 
cliamber?  I  emigrated  from  Virginia 
to  tlie  State  of  Kentucky  now  nearly 
forty-five  years  ago :  I  went  as  an  or- 
plian  boy  who  had  not  yet  attained 
the  age  of  majority  ;  who  had  never 
recoo-nized  a  father's  smile  nor  felt  his 
warm  caresses  ;  poor,  penniless,  without 
the  favor  of  the  great,  with  an  imper- 
fect and  neglected  education,  hardly 
sufficient  for  the  ordinary  business  and 
common  pursuits  of  life ;  but  scarce 
had  I  set  my  foot  upon  her  generous 
soil  when  I  was  embi'aced  with  paren- 
tal fondness,  caressed  as  though  I  had 
been  a  favorite  child,  and  patronized 
with  liberal  and  unbounded  munifi- 
cence. From  that  period  the  highest 
honors  of  the  State  have  been  freely 
bestowed  upon  me ;  and  when,  in  the 
darkest  hour  of  calumny  and  detrac- 
tion, I  seemed  to  be  assailed  by  all  the 
rest  of  the  world,  she  interposed  her 
broad  and  impenetrable  shield,  repelled 
the  poisoned  shafts  that  were  aimed 
for  my  destruction,  and  vindicated  my 
good  name  from  every  malignant  and 
unfounded  aspersion.  I  return  with 
indescribable  pleasure  to  linger  a  while 
longer,  and  mingle  with  the  warm- 
hearted and  whole-souled  people  of 
that  State ;  and  when  the  last  scene 
shall  forever  close  upon  me,  I  hope  that 
my  earthly  remains  will  be  laid  under 
her  green  sod,  with  those  of  her  gallant 
and  patriotic  sons." 

His  apology  for  any  offence  he  might 
have  committed  in  the  heat  of  debate 
was  uttered  as  he  only  could  utter  it, 
when  ho  turned  for  a  moment  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  nobler  struggles 


CLAY. 

of  eloquence  the  Senate  had  witnessed. 
In  conclusion,  he  invoked  "  the  most 
precious  blessings  of  heaven  "  upon  all 
and  each,  and  "  that  most  cheering  and 
gratifying  of  all  human  rewards,  the 
cordial  greeting  of  their  constituents, 
'  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant.' 
And  now,"  he  ended,  "  Mr.  President 
and  senators,  I  bid  you  all  a  long,  a 
lasting,  and  a  friendly  farewell." 

The  farewell  was  honestly  taken,  but 
it  was  not  to  be  long  or  lasting.  He 
returned  home,  visited  New  Orleans 
again  in  the  winter,  and,  as  formerly, 
was  called  upon  to  address  the  public 
in  advocacy  of  the  measures  with  which 
he  was  identified.  He  was  again  looked 
to  as  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency, 
with  the  most  earnest  anticipations 
of  his  succes?  He  was  nominated 
at  Baltimore  by  the  Convention  ;  Mr. 
Polk  was  arrayed  in  opposition  to  him 
on  the  Texas  annexation  question,  and 
he  was  a  third  time  defeated.  His 
course  was  a  manly  one.  He  had  spo- 
ken out  frankly  on  the  Texas  issue,  as 
involving  a  war  with  Mexico,  and  his 
prediction  came  to  pass.  He  had  the 
proud  satisfaction  of  saying,  "I  had 
rather  be  right  than  President."  The 
vote  stood  one  hundred  and  seventy 
for  Mr.  Polk  and  one  hundred  and  five 
for  Mr.  Clay — the  large  votes  of  Penn- 
sylvania and  New  York  being  gained 
by  small  majorities.  The  entire  popu- 
lar vote  stood  for  Polk,  1,336,196  ;  for 
Clay,  1,297,912,  with  a  small  vote  for 
Birney,  the  abolition  candidate — so 
near  did  Mr.  Clay  come  to  the  Presi 
dency  and  fail  of  reaching  it.  His 
friends,  the  large  party  which  he  repre- 
sented, would  have  rallied  upon  him  in 


HENRY  CLAY. 


159 


1848,  but  the  party  movers  liad  been 
tanglit  the  value  of  expediency,  and 
the  magic  of  a  military  reputation. 
Clay  was  strong  on  the  first  ballot  in 
the  Convention,  but  General  Taylor 
received  the  nomination,  and  was  borne 
into  the  office,  like  Harrison,  soon  to 
yield  it  to  the  universal  Conqueror. 

Mr.  Clay,  during  this  time,  was  liv- 
ing in  comparative  retirement  at  Ash- 
land, engaged  in  the  occasional  practice 
of  his  profession,  and  receiving  the 
visits  of  his  friends.  He  had  a  sin- 
gular proof  of  their  kindness  in  the 
unexpected  payment  of  a  mortgage  on 
his  estate.  It  became  known  that  he 
was  involved  by  the  loan  of  his  name. 
A  subscription  was  taken  up  in  the 
chief  Atlantic  cities,  and  at  New  Or- 
leans, and  the  full  amount — more  than 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars — deposit- 
ed to  his  credit  in  the  Northern  Bank 
of  Kentucky.  Other  evidences  of 
kindness  poured  in  upon  him,  consola- 
tory to  his  years  and  trials — for  he  was 
now  to  reap  the  bitter  fruit  of  the 
Mexican  war,  certainly  not  of  his  plant- 
ing, in  the  death  of  his  son  Henry,  at 
the  battle  of  Buena  Vista.  About 
this  time,  carrying  out  a  resolve  pre- 
viously formed,  he  attached  himself  to 
the  Episcopal  church,  was  baptized 
and  confirmed  and  partook  the  sacra- 
ment. 

In  1849,  having  been  elected  for  the 
full  term,  he  was  seated  again  in  the 
Senate  of  the  United  States.  His 
Compromise  Resolutions  of  1850,  touch- 
ing the  new  territorial  questions  aris- 
ing out  of  the  Mexican  war,  were  the 
last  great  parliamentary  efforts  of  his 
career.    He  proposed  that  California 


should  be  admitted  without  restriction 
as  to  the  introduction  or  exclusion  of 
slavery  ;  that  "  slavery  not  existing  by 
law,  and  not  likely  to  be  introduced 
into  any  territory  acquired  by  the 
United  States  from  the  republic  of 
Mexico,  it  was  inexpedient  for  Congress 
to  provide  by  law  either  for  its  intro- 
duction into,  or  exclusion  from,  any 
part  of  said  territory  ;  and  that  appro- 
priate territorial  governments  ought  to 
be  established  by  Congress  in  all  of 
said  territory  not  assigned  as  the  boun- 
daries of  the  proposed  State  of  Cali- 
fornia, without  the  adoption  of  any 
restriction  or  condition  on  the  subject 
•of  slavery;"  that  "it  is  inexpedient  to 
abolish  slavery  in  the  District  of  Co- 
lumbia, while  that  institution  contin- 
ues to  exist  in  the  State  of  Maryland, 
without  the  consent  of  that  State, 
without  the  consent  of  the  people  of 
the  District,  and  without  just  compen- 
sation to  the  owners  of  slaves  within 
the  District ;  but'  that  it  is  expedient 
to  prohibit  within  the  District  the 
slave  trade,  in  slaves  brought  into  it 
from  States  or  places  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  District,  either  to  be  sold  there- 
in as  merchandise,  or  to  be  transported 
to  other  markets,  without  the  District 
of  Columbia." 

In  another  resolution  he  declared 
more  effectual  provision  should  be 
made  for  the  restitution  and  delivery 
of  persons  held  to  service  or  labor  in 
any  State,  who  may  escape  into  any 
other  State  or  Territory  in  the  Union, 
and  that  "  Congress  has  no  power  to 
prohibit  or  obstruct  trade  in  slaves  be- 
tween the  slaveholding  States ;  but 
that   the   admission  or  exclusion  of 


160  HENRY 

slaves,  brouglit  from  one  into  anotlier 
of  tliem,  depends  exclusively  upon  tlieir 
own  particular  laws."  Sucli,  with,  a 
stipulation  for  tlie  debt  and  bounda- 
ries of  Texas,  were  tlie  provisions  with, 
which  Mr.  Clay  sought  to  put  at  rest 
the  formidable  agitation  which  arose 
out  of  the  slavery  question.  The  ad- 
mission of  California,  the  adjustment 
of  the  Texas  debt,  the  organization  of 
the  Territories  of  New  Mexico  and 
Utah,  the  prohibition  of  the  slave 
trade  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  and 
the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  were  all  in  ac- 
cordance with  these  recommendations. 

In  the  Congress  of  1850-51,  under 
the  Presidency  of  Mr.  Fillmore,  Mr. 
Clay  was  in  his  seat,  battling  for  his 
old  issues  of  the  tariff  and  internal  im- 
provements. In  the  following  year  he 
returned  once  more  to  the  Senate,  too 
ill  and  enfeebled  to  take  any  active 
part  in  its  proceedings.  The  consump- 
tion which  was  wearing  out  his  life 
soon  confined  him  to  his  room,  where 
his  last  act  partaking  of  a  public  na- 
ture was  his  reception  of  the  Hunga- 
rian patriot,  Kossuth.  He  compliment- 
ed the  zealous  orator  on  his  fascinating 
eloquence,  "fearing,"  he  said,  "to  come 
under  its  infl.uence,  lest  his  faith  might 
be  shaken  in  some  principles  in  regard 
to  the  foreign  policy  of  this  govern- 
ment, which  he  had  long  and  constantly 
cherished,"  The  principles  which  he 
feared  might  be  endangered  were  those 
recommended  by  Washington's  Fare- 
well Address,  advising  no  interference 
beyond  the  influence  of  our  example 
with  the  internal  difficulties  of  Europe. 
"  Far  better,"  he  said,  "  is  it  for  our- 
selves, for  Hungary  and  for  the  cause 


CLAY. 

of  liberty,  that  adhering  to  our  wise, 
pacific  system,  and  avoiding  the  dis- 
tant wars  of  Europe,  we  should  keep 
our  lamp  burning  brightly  on  this  wes- 
tern shore,  as  a  light  to  all  nations, 
than  to  hazard  its  utter  extinction  amid 
the  ruins  of  fallen  or  falling  republics 
in  Europe." 

The  brief  remaining  record  is  of  the 
sick  chamber,  the  wasting  of  bodily 
strength,  the  solicitude  of  friends,  the 
ministrations  of  religion,  of  which  this 
noble  hearted  man,  accustomed  to  rule 
Senates  and  control  the  policy  of  the 
nation,  was  as  penitent,  resigned,  hum- 
ble a  participant  as  any  in  the  thronged 
myriads  whom  the  eloquence  of  his 
voice  had  ever  reached.  He  died,  the 
aged  patriot,  at  the  full  age  of  seventy- 
five,  at  his  lodgings  in  the  National  Ho- 
tel of  "Washington,  "  with  perfect  com- 
posure, without  a  groan  or  struggle," 
June  29,  1852. 

In  the  announcement  of  his  death  to 
the  Senate,  his  colleague,  Mr.  Joseph 
R.  Underwood,  touched  upon  his  patri- 
otic services  lightly,  for  it  was  not  ne- 
cessary to  recall  them  in  that  assembly, 
and  dwelt  upon  the  many  genial  quali- 
ties of  the  man,  his  courage  and  cour- 
tesy, the  strength  with  which  he  would 
contend,  the  ease  with  which,  he  might 
be  conciliated,  his  fine  business  tact, 
his  "  nice,  discriminating  taste  for  or- 
der, symmetry  and  beauty,"  the  world 
wide  range  of  his  sympathies,  extending 
from  home,  friends  and  country;  his 
winning  eloquence.  "  His  physical  and 
mental  organization,"  said  this  speaker, 
giving  expression  to  the  recollections 
of  thousands,  "  eminently  qualified  him 
to  become  a  great  and  impressive  ora- 


HENRY  CLAY. 


161 


tor.  His  person  was  tall,  slender,  and 
commanding  ;  liis  temperament  ardent, 
fearless  and  full  of  liope ;  liis  counte- 
nance clear,  expressive  and  vaiiable — 
indicating  the  emotion  which  predomi- 
nated at  the  moment  with  exact  simili- 
tude.^   His  voice,  cultivated  and  modu- 

'  The  person  of  Mr.  Clay  was  thus  described  by  his 
biographer,  Mr.  Colton,  in  1845 :  "  Mr.  Clay  is  a  tall 
man,  six  feet  and  one  inch  ;  not  stout,  but  the  opposite  ; 
has  long  arms  and  a  small  head  ;  always  erect  in  stand- 
ing, walking  or  talking  ;  in  debate,  still  more  erect ;  has 
a  well  shaped  head,  and  a  dauntless  profile ;  an  uncom- 
monly large  mouth,  upper  lip  commanding,  nose  promi- 
nent, spare  visage,  and  blue  eyes,  electrical  when  kindled  ; 
forehead  high,  sloping  backward  in  a  curvilinear  line, 
that  bespeaks  the  man  ;  hair  naturally  light,  and  slow  to 
put  on  the  frosts  of  age  ;  withal,  displaying  a  well-formed 
person  and  imposing  aspect,  with  which,  it  is  supposed, 
an  amateur  or  connoisseur  in  human  shape  and'  counte- 
nance would  not  be  likely  to  find  much  fault." 


lated  in  harmony  with  the  sentiment 
he  desired  to  express,  fell  upon  the  ear 
like  the  melody  of  enrapturing  music. 
His  eye  beamed  with  intelligence,  his 
gestures  and  attitudes  were  graceful 
and  natural.  These  personal  advan- 
tages won  the  prepossessions  of  an  au- 
dience, even  before  Tiis  intellectual 
powers  began  to  move  his  hearers ;  and 
when  his  strong  common  sense,  his  pro- 
found reasoning,  his  clear  conceptions 
of  his  subject  in  all  its  bearings,  and 
his  striking  and  beautiful  illustrations, 
united  with  such  personal  qualities, 
were  brought  to  the  discussion  of  any 
question,  his  audience  was  enraptured, 
convinced  and  led  by  the  orator  as  if 
enchanted  by  the  lyre  of  Orpheus." 


JOHN    CALDWELL  CALHOUN. 


Tins  eminent  statesman,  like  his  con- 
temporary, Andrew  Jackson,  was  of 
Irish  parentage.  His  grandfather,  James 
Calhoun  of  Donegal,  with  many  of  the 
inhabitants  of  that  northern  portion 
of  the  country  a  Presbyterian  in  faith, 
came  to  America  in  the  year  IT 3 3, 
bringing  with  him  his  son  Patrick,  a 
boy  six  years  old.  The  family  first 
landed  in  Pennsylvania,  were  then  set- 
tled for  a  time  in  Wythe  County,  in 
the  western  region  of  Virginia,  whence 
they  were  driven  by  the  Indian  dis- 
turbances attendant  upon  the  opening 
of  the  old  French  war,  to  emigrate  fur- 
ther, to  South  Carolina.  In  this  j)ro- 
vince  they  established  themselves  at  a 
spot  which  became  known  as  the  Cal- 
houn settlement,  in  the  Abbeville  dis- 
trict on  the  upper  waters  of  the  Savan- 
nah, then  a  remote  frontier  territory. 
This  southern  removal  took  place  in 
1756,  after  the  defeat  of  General  Brad- 
dock,  when  Virginia  lay  open  to  Indian 
hostilities.  It  proved  in  the  end  an 
exchange  of  a  single  peril  for  others 
far  more  formidable.  In  South  Caro- 
lina the  family  were  destined  to  en- 
counter not  merely  the  Indian  in  the 
fierce  contests  with  the  Cherokee,  in 
which  Patrick  Calhoun  gained  a  name 
among  the  resolute  border  heroes  of 
that  wild  warfare,  but  the  savage  Bri- 

1<2 


ton  and  the  deadly  civil  struggle  of 
their  own  land.  The  upper  country  on 
the  Savannah,  bordering  on  Georgia, 
was  the  scene,  during  the  Bevolution- 
ary  war,  of  fierce  and  protracted  con- 
flicts, fought  out,  not  in  the  great  issues 
of  single  battles,  but  in  the  uninter- 
mitted,  murderous  strife  of  constant 
invasion.  In  the  years,  however,  inter- 
vening between  the  two  struggles,  the 
Calhoun  family  managed  to  make  good 
their  position  in  their  settlement,  so 
that  they  were  enabled  to  maintain  it 
against  all  opposition,  though  at  a 
fearful  cost.  Patrick  Calhoun,  in  1770, 
married  Martha  Caldwell,  of  Virginia, 
also  of  Irish  Protestant  parentage. 
Three  of  her  brothers  were  victims  or 
sufferers  in  the  Revolutionary  contest. 
One  was  murdered  by  the  Tories  by 
the  side  of  his  burning  dwelling ;  ano- 
ther fell  fighting  for  his  country  at 
Cowpens ;  a  third  was  imprisoned  a 
long  time  by  the  English  at  St.  Au- 
gustine. 

This  horrid  strife  was  just  closing 
in  the  lingering  of  the  conflict  in 
South  Carolina,  already  determined  by 
the  surrender  at  Yorktown,  when  John 
Caldwell  Calhoun,  the  youngest  but 
one  of  a  family  of  five  children,  was 
born  at  the  family  settlement,  March 
18,  1782.    The  unsettled  state  of  the 


II 


1 1' 


weti  ty  jiermisswTi.  7r(rm^  an.  trn(77,?mZ  p,77~t>-az(:  /f-tpm,  lire. 

JohnsouJiy  &  Cc  Pullialiers.lsrewYork, 


JOHN    CALDWELL  CALnOTJN. 


163 


country  at  tlie  ])eriod  of  Lis  cliildliood, 
of  course,  offered  little  or  no  opportuni- 
ty for  what  is  too  exclusively  called 
education.  There  ^Yas  not  an  academy 
in  the  -whole  region,  and  but  an  occa- 
sional schoolmaster  of  any  description, 
and  he  was  not  likely,  when  found,  to 
be  of  the  best.  The  boy,  however,  had 
the  instruction  of  the  vigorous  race 
among  whom  he  was  born,  men 
strer.o-thened  in  their  resolves  and  tu- 
tored  in  their  rights,  by  the  severe  les- 
sons of  the  Revolution,  The  mind  of 
a  keen,  intelligent  boy  was  not  likely 
to  sta2;nate  with  such  recent  traditions 
lying  thickly  about  him.  He  had,  too, 
in  the  loving  example  of  his  father,  a 
man  of  great  energy  and  resolution,  in 
the  full  maturity  of  life,  a  constant 
source  of  streno;th.  Such  influences  as 
these,  however,  though  all-important 
In  the  formation  of  character,  are  of  lit- 
tle avail  to  the  higher  usefulness  of  life, 
without  the  positive  instruction  of 
books  and  learning.  They  are  oppor- 
tunities which  can  be  brought  into  ac- 
tion only  by  literary  culture.  In  vain 
does  the  wind  pursue  its  strong  career 
over  the  buoyant  depths  of  the  ocean, 
unless  it  be  fettered  to  the  sails  of  the 
l  ark,  skilfully  constructed  to  avail  it- 
self of  those  natural  forces. 

The  young  Calhoun,  happily,  was 
not  without  some  of  these  learned  ap- 
pliances, though  his  education  in  his 
boyhood  was  irregular  and  he  was 
mostly  selftaught — a  term  which  we 
apply  to  what  one  learns  from  printed 
volimies,  and  a  hundred  different 
sources,  without  the  interposition  of  a 
schoolmaster  or  professor — as  if  the 
words  of  the  greatest  minds  of  the  past 


and  present  in  books,  and  the  actions 
of  men,  were  not  more  direct  and  forci- 
ble instruction  than  "the  average  hire- 
ling  pedagogue.  Be  this  as  it  may,  in 
the  present  case  the  boy  was  left  to 
find  his  own  way  at  first  into  the  plea- 
sant fields  of  literature.  He  was  sent 
at  thirteen  to  the  school  of  his  brother- 
in-law,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Waddell,  in  a 
neighboring  county  in  Georgia ;  but 
all  teaching  was  speedily  interrupted 
there  by  the  breaking  up  of  the  estab- 
lishment in  consequence  of  the  death 
of  the  preceptor's  wife.  Fortunately 
for  the  youth,  who  remained  on  the 
spot,  there  was  a  small  circulating  lib- 
rary in  the  house,  in  charge  of  his  bro- 
ther-in-law, the  clergyman,  to  which  he 
had  free  access ;  and  here  we  may  see 
the  early  natural  bent  and  force  of  the 
boy's  mind.  It  was  not  to  poetry  or 
romance  that  he  directed  his  attention, 
but  to  history,  of  which  he  devoured 
all  that  the  library  contained — RoUin, 
Robertson's  Charles  V.  and  America, 
Voltaire's  Charles  XII. — not  a  large 
stock,  but  sufficient  to  furnish  the  mind 
of  an  earnest,  reflecting  boy.  There 
was  Cook's  Voyages  also  to  give  wings 
to  his  imagination,  and  enough  meta- 
physics in  Brown  and  Locke  to  stimu- 
late the  reasoning  faculties  which  were 
to  be  the  prominent  mark  of  the  man. 
The  young  student  became  so  improved 
in  these  books,  all  of  which  he  con- 
sumed in  fourteen  weeks,  that  his 
health  began  to  suffer,  "his  eyes  be- 
came seriously  affected,  his  countenance 
pallid,  and  his  frame  emaciated."  His 
mother,  hearing  of  these  difiiculties, 
sent  for  him  home,  where,  occupying 
himself  with  the  duties  of  the  farm — 


164 


JOHN  CALDWELL  CALHOUK 


his  father  was  now  dead,  and  Lis 
brothers  absent — lie  recovered  liis 
health,  and  in  four  years'  sturdy  em- 
ployment in  rural  pursuits  and  amuse- 
ments strengthened  his  constitution  for 
his  future  labors. 

He  now  appeared  far  more  likely  to 
follow  the  life  of  a  planter  than  to  en- 
ter the  Senate  of  the  United  States, 
when  his  elder  brbther,  James,  who 
was  in  a  counting-house  at  Charleston, 
coming  home  in  the  summer  of  1800, 
urged  him  to  aim  at  one  of  the  profes- 
sions. His  answer  was  characteristic. 
He  said  his  "  property  was  small  and 
his  resolution  fixed :  he  would  far 
rather  be  a  planter  than  a  half-informed 
physician  or  lawyer.  With  this  deter- 
mination he  could  not  bring  his  mind 
to  select  either  without  ample  prepara- 
tion ;  but  if  the  consent  of  their  mo- 
ther should  be  freely  given,  and  he 
(James)  thought  he  could  so  manage 
his  property  as  to  keep  him  in  funds 
for  study  preparatory  to  entering  his 
profession,  he  would  leave  home  and 
commence  his  education  the  next 
week."  ^  The  conditions  were  agreed 
to,  the  arrangements  made  and  John 
returned  again  to  his  brother-in-law  the 
clergyman,  who  had  married  again  and 
resumed  his  school.  He  was  eighteen 
when  he  thus  recommenced,  if,  indeed, 
he  may  not  be  .said  to  have  begun,  his 
systematic  studies.  He  pursued  them 
with  such  vigor  that  in  two  years  lie 
entered  the  junior  class  of  Yale  College, 
under  the  presidency  of  Dr.  Dwight, 
and  graduated  with  honor  in  1804,  in 

'  Life  of  John  C  Calhoun  (Harpers,  1843),  a  well  writ- 
ten narrative,  to  which  we  are  mainly  indebted  for  the 
facts  in  this  sketch. 


the  beginning  of  his  twenty-third  year. 
To  this  mature  age  may  doubtless  be 
attributed  much  of  the  benefit  which 
he  received  from  his  instruction.  The 
soil,  not  altogether  unprepared  for  its 
reception,  had  lain  fallow  to  produce  a 
more  certain  and  bountiful  crop.  In 
the  college  traditions  of  his  powers,  his 
strength  in  argument  is  remembered. 
He  was  thus  early  attached  to  the  re- 
publican or  democratic  party,  and  the 
story  is  told  of  his.  employing  the  houi" 
of  instruction  in  disputation  with  the 
president,  arising  out  of  the  text  of  Pa- 
ley,  on  the  source  of  power,  which  he 
maintained  to  be  in  the  people.  Dr. 
Dwight  is  said  to  have  been  so  much 
struck  with  his  ability  as  to  declare 
that  "the  young  man  had  talent  enough 
to  be  President  of  the  United  States," 
an  augury  which,  at  one  time,  came  to 
be  thought  on  the  eve  of  fulfillment. 
The  topic  of  the  discourse  which  he 
prepared  for  Commencement  was  also 
indicative  of  his  future  career.  It  was, 
"  The  qualifications  necessary  to  consti- 
tute a  perfect  statesman." 

From  New  Haven,  Calhoun  passed  to 
the  law  school  of  Judge  Eeeves  and 
Judge  Gould  at  Connecticut,  where  he 
pursued  his  studies  with  eagerness  and 
left  a  fragrant  memory  of  his  skill  in 
disputation  and  public  speaking.  He 
then  completed  his  law  studies  in 
the  office  of  Mr.  De  Saussure,  of 
Charleston,  and  Mr.  George  Bowie,  of 
his  native  district  of  Abbeville.  His 
seven  years'  apprenticeship  to  learning 
being  thus  accomplished  "  according  to 
his  determination  when  he  commenced 
hia  education,"  he  was  admitted  to  the 
bar  and  began  practice  at  Abbeville, 


JOnX   CALDWELL  CALnOUN. 


165 


contiimiug  to  reside  in  the  old  family 
homestead.  He  rose  at  once  to  emi- 
nence on  the  circuit,  and  speedily  in 
the  councils  of  his  country. 

The  event  to  which  his  first  entrance 
upon  public  life  is  referred,  was  one 
which,  coming  as  the  culmination  of  a 
long  series  of  injuries  received  since 
the  peace  of  1783,  from  Great  Britain, 
stirred  up  the  popular  feeling  of  the 
country  to  a  height  of  excitement  diffi- 
cult at  the  present  day  to  appreciate. 
We  allude  to  the  assault  of  the  Leo- 
pard upon  the  Chesapeake,  in  June, 
1807 — the  date,  it  will  be  observed,  of 
Mr,  Calhoun's  entrance  on  the  practice 
of  the  law.  Meetings  were  held  to  ex- 
press the  public  indignation  in  various 
parts  of  the  country,  and  among  other 
places,  in  Abbeville,  Calhoun,  young, 
ardent,  inheriting  the  blood  of  resist- 
ance from  his  father,  was  on  hand  to 
give  expression  to  the  general  voice. 
He  prepared  the  resolutions  of  the  as- 
sembly, and  supported  them  by  a  vig- 
orous speech.  The  people  caught  him 
up  as  their  representative,  and  their 
votes  carried  him  into  the  State  legis- 
lature at  the  next  election.  He  served 
two  sessions,  establishing  his  character 
as  a  sagacious  politician  and  earnest 
man  for  the  times,  when,  in  the  autumn 
of  1810,  he  was  elected  to  the  twelfth 
Congress  of  the  United  States.  He 
went  to  "Washington  an  avowed  sup- 
porter of  the  war  policy ;  and  it  was 
by  his  energy,  as  much  as  that  of  any 
man,  that  this  policy  was  carried  into 
effect.  Henceforth  he  is  devoted  to 
public  life,  and  lives  and  breathes  in  the 
councils  of  the  nation.  He  was  placed 
^■n  the  Committee  of  Foreign  Relations, 
n.— 21 


and  spoke  on  the  portion  of  the  Presi- 
dent's message  whic]i  fell  to  the  consi- 
deration  of  that  body.  He  was  at  the 
outset  second  on  the  committee  when 
the  retirement  of  its  chairman,  Mr. 
Porter,  placed  him  at  its  head.  His 
reports  in  this  influential  position  led 
the  war  movement  of  the  country.  In 
his  speech  of  December  12,  1811,  on 
the  proposition  of  the  enlistment  of 
an  additional  force  of  ten  thousand 
regular  troops,  in  reply  to  the  re- 
marks of  John  Randolph,  he  thus 
happily  met  the  charge — often  thrown 
out  in  those  times  when  the  choice  of 
going  to  war  appeared  to  be  whether 
France  or  Great  Britain  should  be 
taken  as  the  antagonist — of  hatred  to 
England,  "  The  gentleman  from  Vir- 
ginia is  at  a  loss  to  account  for  what 
he  calls  our  hatred  to  England,  He 
asks,  how  can  we  hate  the  country  of 
Locke,  of  Newton,  Hampden  and  Chat- 
ham ;  a  country  having  the  same  lan- 
guage and  customs  with  ourselves  and 
descending  from  a  common  ancestry? 
Sir,  the  laws  of  human  affection  are 
steady  and  uniform.  If  we  have  so 
much  to  attach  us  to  that  country,  po- 
tent indeed  must  be  the  cause  which 
has  overpowered  it.  Yes,  there  is  a 
cause  strong  enough ;  not  in  that  oc- 
cult courtly  affection  which  he  has  sup- 
posed to  be  entertained  for  France ; 
but  it  is  to  be  found  in  continued  and 
unprovoked  insult  and  injury — a  cause 
so  manifest,  that  the  gentleman  from 
Virginia  had  to  exert  much  ingenuity 
to  overlook  it.  But  the  gentleman,  in 
his  eager  admiration  of  that  country, 
has  not  been  sufficiently  guarded  in  his 
argument.    Has  he   reflected  on  the 


1(36 


JOHN  CALDWELL  CALHOITN. 


cause  of  that  admii'ation  ?  Has  lie  ex- 
amined tlie  reasons  of  our  liigli  regard 
for  Chatham  ?  It  is  his  ardent  patriot- 
triotism,  the  heroic  courage  of  his  mind, 
that  could  not  brook  the  least  insult  or 
injury  offered  to  his  country,  but 
thouo;ht  that  her  interest  and  honor 
ought  to  be  vindicated  at  every  hazard 
and  expense.  I  hope,  when  we  are 
called  upon  to  admire,  we  shall  also  be 
asked  to  imitate."  Another  passage 
which  has  been  much  admired,  will 
show  the  quick,  fertile,  intellectual  pro- 
cesses which  the  young  orator  intro- 
duced into  the  dry  discussions  of  the 
House.  It  is  from  his  speech  of  June 
24,  1812,  on  the  projoosition  to  repeal 
the  Non-importation  Act.  Gliding  into 
this  portion  of  his  subject,  the  consid- 
eration of  the  general  worth  of  the  em- 
bargo, by  an  admirable  touch  of  irony 
he  acquits  it  of  being  a  "  pusillani- 
mous "  measure :  "  To  lock  up  the 
whole  commerce  of  this  country ;  to 
say  to  the  most  trading  and  exporting 
people  in  the  world,  'you  shall  not 
trade,  you  shall  not  export to  break 
in  upon  the  schemes  of  almost  every 
man  in  society,  is  far  from  weakness, 
very  far  from  pusillanimity." 

He  then  objects  to  the  restrictive 
system,  that  it  is  not  suited  to  the  ge- 
nius of  the  people,  the  government,  or 
the  geographical  character  of  the  coun- 
try. "  No  passive  system,"  he  says, 
"  can  suit  such  a  people,  in  action  supe- 
rior to  all  others,  in  patience  and  endu- 
rance inferior  to  many."  As  for  the 
government,  it  is  "  founded  on  freedom 
and  hates  coercion,"  while  the  geogra- 
phy of  the  country  renders  the  preven- 
tion  of  smuggling  impossible.  He 


next  exhibits  the  government  rendered 
odious  by  the  embargo,  and  with  great 
subtilty  contrasts  the  pressure  with 
the  burdens  of  war.  "  The  privation." 
he  says,  "  it  is  true,  may  be  equal  or 
greater;  but  the  public  mind,  under 
the  strong  impulses  of  such  a  state,  be- 
comes steeled  against  sufferings.  The 
difference  is  great  between  the  passive 
and  active  state  of  mind.  Tie  down  a  hero 
and  he  feels  the  puncture  of  a  pin ;  but 
throw  him  into  battle,  and  he  is  scarce- 
ly sensible  of  vital  gashes.  So  in  war. 
Impelled  alternately  by  hope  and  fear, 
stimulated  by  revenge,  depressed  with 
shame  or  elevated  by  victory,  the  peo- 
ple become  invincible.  No  privation 
can  shake  their  fortitude,  no  calamity 
can  break  their  spirit.  Even  where 
equally  unsuccessful,  the  contrast  is 
striking.  War  and  restriction  may 
leave  the  country  equally  exhausted ; 
but  the  latter  not  only  leaves  you  poor, 
but,  even  when  successful,  dispirited, 
divided,  discontented,  with  diminished 
patriotism,  and  the  manners  of  a  consi- 
derable portion  of  your  people  corrupt- 
ed. Not  so  in  war.  .  .  .  Sir,  I  would 
prefer  a  single  victory  over  the  enemy, 
by  sea  or  land,  to  all  the  good  we  shall 
ever  derive  from  the  continuation  of 
the  Non-importation  Act.  The  memory 
of  a  Saratoga  or  a  Eutaw  is  immortal. 
It  is  there  you  will  find  the  country's 
boast  and  pride,  the  inexhaustible 
source  of  great  and  heroic  actions. 
But  what  will  history  say  of  restric- 
tion ?  What  examples  worthy  of 
imitation  will  it  furnish  posterity  ? 
What  pride,  what  pleasure  will  our 
children  find  in  the  events  of  such 
times  ?    Let  me  not  be  considered  as 


JOHN   CALDWELL  CALHOUN. 


167 


romantic.  This  nation  oiiglit  to  be 
tang-lit  to  rely  on  its  own  courage,  its 
fortitude,  its  skill  and  virtue,  for  pro- 
tection. These  are  the  only  safeguards 
in  the  hour  of  danger.  Man  was  en- 
dowed with  these  great  qualities  for 
his  defence.  There  is  nothing  about 
him  that  indicates  that  he  must  con- 
quer by  enduring.  He  is  not  incrusted 
in  a  shell ;  he  is  not  taught  to  rgly  on 
his  insensibility,  his  passive  suffering, 
for  defence.  No,  no ;  it  is  on  the  in- 
vincible mind,  on  a  magnanimous  na- 
ture, that  he  ought  to  rely.  Herein 
lies  the  superiority  of  our  kind;  it  is 
these  that  make  man  the  lord  of  the 
world.  It  is  the  destiny  of  our  condi- 
tion that  nations  should  rise  above  na- 
tions, as  they  are  endowed  in  a  greater 
degree  with  these  shining  qualities." 

By  such  words  as  these  was  the 
nation  stimulaed  to  its  exertions  in  the 
second  war  with  Great  Britain,  and 
such  eloquence  will  ever  be  in  request 
on  like  occasions  from  the  lips  of  youth- 
ful orators  when  peaceful  policy  is  to 
be  thrown  aside  and  heroic  energy 
excited.  Nor  was  it  necessary  only 
that  the  country  should  be  aroused ; 
the  confidence  of  the  war  jDarty  was 
to  be  sustained;  and,  throughout  the 
struggle,  in  all  its  vicissitudes,  to  the 
end,  the  trumpet  tones  of  Calhoun,  no 
less  than  his  cool  argumentative  discus- 
sion, were  heard  animating  to  renewed 
eifort. 

In  his  speech  of  February  25,  1814, 
on  the  Loan  Bill,  he  discussed  v^th 
masterly  vigor  the  aggressive  ma- 
ritime and  commercial  policy  of  Eng- 
land, and  the  rights  of  other  nations  to 
be  preserved  in  an  armed  neutrality. 


"  Why,"  said  he,  "  should  I  consumie 
time  to  prove  her.  maritime  policy  ? 
Who  is  there  so  stupid  as  not  to  see 
and  feel  its  effect  ?  You  cannot  look 
toward  her  shores  and  not  behold  it. 
You  may  see  it  in  her  Parliament,  her 
prints,  her  theatres,  and  in  her  very 
songs.  It  is  scarcely  disguised.  It  is 
her  pride  and  boast.  ...  The  nature 
of  its  growth  indicates  its  remedy.  It 
originated  in  power,  has  grown  in  pro 
portion  as  opposing  power  has  been 
removed,  and  can  only  be  restrained  by 
power.  Nations  are,  for  the  most  part, 
not  restrained  by  moral  principles,  but 
by  fear.  It  is  an  old  maxim  that  they 
have  heads,  but  no  hearts.  They  see 
their  awn  interests,  but  do  not  sympa- 
thize in  the  wrongs  of  others."  Then, 
briefly  noticing  the  part  the  country, 
standing  alone,  had  borne  in  the  pre- 
serva^tion  of  the  rights  of  neutrals,  he 
turns  to  assure  fainting  courage  of  the 
result  of  perseverance,  sj)ite  of  the  in- 
creased power  of  Great  Britain,  left  free 
by  the  cessation  of  her  struggle  with 
France.  "  But,  say  our  opponents, 
their  efforts  are  vain  and  our  condition 
hopeless.  If  so,  it  only  remains  for  us 
to  assume  the  habit  of  our  condition. 
We  must  submit,  humbly  submit,  crave 
pardon,  and  hug  our  chains.  It  is  not 
wise  to  provoke  where  we  cannot  re- 
sist. But  let  us  be  well  assured  of  the 
hopeless  nature  of  our  condition  before 
we  sink  into  submission.  On  what  do 
our  opponents  rest  their  despondent 
and  slavish  belief?  On  the  recent 
events  in  Europe  ?  I  admit  they  are 
great,  and  well  calculated  to  impose  on 
the  imagination.  Our  enemy  never 
presented  a  more  imposing  exterior. 


168 


JOHN   CALDWELL  CALHOUN. 


His  fortune  is  at  tlie  flood.  But  I  am 
admonislied  by  universal  experience 
that  sucli  prosperity  is  the  most  fickle 
of  human  conditions.  From  the  flood 
the  tide  dates  its  ebb ;  from  the  meri- 
dian the  sun  commences  his  decline. 
There  is  more  of  sound  philosophy 
than  fiction  in  the  fickleness  which 
poets  attribute  to  fortune.  Prosperity 
has  its  weakness,  adversity  its  strength." 
If  she  has  overcome  France,  he  said, 
she  has  lost  her  great  stronghold  in  the 
"  French  influence ;"  if  she  has  gained 
victories,  they  were  purchased  only  by 
an  exhaustino;  conflict.  The  armed 
neutrality  yet  remained.  European 
nations,  every  day  more  commercial, 
will  demand  the  freedom  of  the  seas, 
and  make  common  cause  ao-ainst  the 
monopoly  of  Great  Britain. .  "  No," 
was  his  eloquent  exclamation,  "  the 
ocean  cannot  become  property.  Like 
light  and  air,  it  is  unsusceptible  of  the 
idea  of  property.  Heaven  has  given  it 
to  man  equally,  freely,  bountifully ; 
and  all  empires  attempted  to  be  raised 
on  it  must  partake  of  the  fickleness 
of  its  waves."  This  is  eloquence,  not 
far-fetched  or  dependent  upon  pomp  of 
expression,  armed  with  devices  to  star- 
tle or  confound  the  listener,  but  the 
quick,  fiery,  impetuous  utterance  spring- 
ing from  the  heart  of  the  subject,  with 
its  living  ornaments  inwoven  with  the 
very  fibre  of  the  discourse.  Nor  will 
the  strong,  forcible  Saxon  of  this 
speech  be  overlooked.  It  is  a  model 
of  pure  English  undefiled. 

We  might  linger  over  passages  like 
these,  growing  out  of  the  abundant  en- 
ergy with  which  the  war  was  defended 
and  pursued  by  Calhoun  in  Congress, 


calling  the  reader's  attention  to  .  this 
most  important  portion  of  the  orator's 
career,  which  has  been  somewhat 
thrown  out  of  mind  by  the  far  differ- 
ent discussions  of  his  later  life,  which 
have  engrossed  the  attention  of  a  new 
generation  ;  but  we  must  pass  on  with 
our  brief  narrative.  The  war  being 
ended,  questions  of  financial  policy 
arose,  schemes  and  propositions  of 
banks,  in  the  treatment  of  which  a  wise 
adjustment  was  to  be  made  between 
an  adequate  provision  for  the  necessi- 
ties of  the  public  and  the  private  in- 
terests which  always  attach  themselves 
to  such  institutions.  The  acute  mind 
and  incorruptible  national  policy  of 
Calhoun  were  here  again  in  the  ascend- 
ant. He  resisted  such  features  as  he 
thought  unsound;  but  waiving  the 
constitutional  scruples  of  his  party, 
gave  his  support  to  what  he  thought 
indispensable  to  meet  the  emergency. 
As  chairman  of  the-  committee  on  na- 
tional currency,  he  introduced  the  bill 
in  1816  to  establish  a  National  Bank. 
In  like  manner  he  supported  the  tariff 
of  the  same  year,  and  the  bill  to  j)ro- 
mote  internal  improvements  in  the  fol- 
lowing. This  was  the  last  of  his  im- 
portant labors  in  the  House  of  Kepre- 
sentatives,  from  which  he  was  called  to 
another  sjohere  of  public  duty  in  tlie 
cabinet  of  President  Monroe,  as  Secre- 
tary of  War. 

It  is  said  that  his  political  friends  in 
South  Carolina  attempted  to  dissuade 
him  from  accepting  this  appointment, 
thinking  that  "  his  mind  was  more  me- 
taphysical than  practical,"  and  that  a 
rising  orator  would  be  lost  to  the  House 
while  the  administration  would  gain 


JOHN  CALDW 

but  an  indifferent  man  of  business ; 
and  tluit  lie  himself  would  "  lose  repu- 
tation in  taking  charge  of  a  depart- 
ment, especially  one  in  a  state  of  sucli 
disorder  and  confusion  as  the  "War  De- 
pai'tment  was  then,"  Plausible  as 
these  considerations  appeared,  one  im- 
portant item  was  left  out  in  the  ac- 
count, the  ability  and  conscientiousness 
of  a  man  of  true  genius.  A  high  or- 
der of  intellectual  faculties  will  always 
naturally  draw  in  its  train  the  perform- 
ance of  inferior  duties — if  the  morality 
of  any  duty  can  be  called  inferior. 
Tlie  skilful  analysis,  the  shrewd  sugges- 
tion, the  acute  inquiry  which  can  con- 
duct a  debate  as  Calhoun  conducted  it, 
argue  powers  fully  equal  to  the  disen- 
tanglement of  a  complicated  imbroglio 
of  finance.  When  Mr,  Calhoun  entered 
the  War  Department  it  was  in  utter 
disorder,  without  even  the  services  of 
its  old  chief  clerk,  that  useful  function- 
ary who  is  expected  to  keep  the 
wheels  of  business  moving  through 
successive  administrations,  having  va- 
cated his  post.  The  new  Secretary, 
though  he  had  inspired  the  movements 
of  fleets  and  armies,  was  utterly  un- 
practiced  in  the  handling  of  military 
affairs ;  yet  such  was  the  result  of  his 
sagacious  insight,  careful  investigation, 
and  his  methodical  mind,  that  he  per- 
fected a  system  of  organization  for  the 
regulation  of  the  department  which 
remains  in  force  to  this  day.  He  in- 
fused his  energy  into  all  the  details  of 
administration,  reviving  the  Military 
Academy,  establishing  frontier  posts, 
setting  on  foot  surveys,  and  originating 
the  system  of  medical  observations 
M^hich  have  gained  a  wide  repute  in 


ELL  CALHOUN.  1G9 

our  army  statistics.  His  financial  ma- 
nagement Avas  such-  that  he  reduced 
forty  millions  of  unsettled  accounts, 
many  of  them  of  long  standing,  to 
three  millions,  diminished  the  expenses 
in  various  ways,  and  introduced  such 
accountability  into  the  system  that  in 
the  disbursements  of  four  millions  and 
a  half  in  one  year  there  was  not  a  sin- 
gle defalcation  nor  the  loss  of  one  cent 
to  the  government.  Let  this  purity  be 
remembered  badge  of  the  most 

eminent  men  of  the  country  who  have 
illustrated  the  national  annals  by  their 
powers  of  intellect.  Grenius  is  some- 
times disgraced  by  the  lack  of  honesty, 
but  fraud  has  no  place  in  the  history 
of  those  worthy  to  be  called  the  fath- 
ers of  the  American  State. 

Mr.  Calhoun  held  the  ofiice  of  Secre- 
tary of  War  for  seven  years,  till  his 
election  to  the  Vice-Presidency,  in  the 
administration  of  John  Quincy  Adams, 
at  the  termination  of  which  he  was 
continued  in  the  same  ofiice  throuo-h 
the  first  term  of  President  Jackson. 
This  period  may  be  called  the  troubled 
era  of  his  political  life.  He  was  disaf- 
fected to  the  administration  of  Adams 
at  the  beginning,  and  that  of  Jackson 
at  the  close ;  and  to  the  ordinary  disa- 
greements of  party  in  the  latter  in- 
stance was  added  the  hostility  of  a 
personal  feud  resting  on  the  charge  of 
ancient  opposition  to  the  President  in 
Mr.  Monroe's  cabinet,  in  the  occurren- 
ces of  the  Seminole  war.  From  this 
period  date  the  nullification  doctrines 
and  proceedings  which  play  so  impor- 
tant a  part  in  Mr.  Calhoun's  political 
history.  He  furnished  arguments  and 
gave  strength  to  the  theory,  which  he 


170 


JOHN   CALDWELL  CALHOUN. 


based  on  an  interpretation  of  the  old 
Virginia  Resolutions  of  1789,  of  tlie 
right  of  a  State  to  take  the  cause  in  its 
own  hands,  and  interpose  to  arrest 
what  it  might  consider  a  violation  of 
its  own  proper  privileges  by  the  Gene- 
ral Government — a  doctrine  which,  ap- 
plied by  the  minority  in  South  Caro- 
lina to  the  tariff  of  1828,  was  met  by 
the  practical  conduct  and  authoritative 
declaration  of  President  Jackson,  in 
his  celebrated  Proclamation  supporting 
the  laws  and  authority  of  the  Union. 

Mr.  Calhoun  resigned  the  Vice-Presi- 
dency to  become  the  successor,  in  the 
Senate,  of  Robert  Y.  Hayne.  He  took 
his  seat  on  thS  eve  of  the  introduction 
of  the  celebrated  Force  Bill,  levelled  at 
the  movement  in  South  Carolina.  The 
crisis  was  one  well  calculated  to  draw 
forth  his  best  powers,  as  he  stood  the 
representative,  on  the  floor  over  which 
he  had  so  long  presided,  of  the  obnox- 
ious political  heresy  of  "  nullification." 
In  the  debate  which  ensued,  the  closing 
struggle  was  between  him  and  Web- 
ster, on  the  interpretation  and  powers 
of  the  Constitution,  whether,  as  an  inde- 
pendent authority,  a  fundamental  law 
of  the  land,  an  obligation  binding 
upon  the  people,  or  a  compact  between 
States.  Calhoun's  speech  on  this  occa- 
sion, delivered  on  the  26th  February, 
1833,  is  considered  one  of  his  master 
efforts.  Its  mischievous  heresy,  laid  at 
rest  for  a  time,  has  in  our  own  day 
reappeared  in  the  progressive  develop- 
ment of  Secession — a  gigantic  sectional 
crime,  which  we  cannot  but  think 
the  parent  of  the  doctrine- would  have 
shrunk  from. 

Throughout  the  period  of  General 


Jackson's  administration,  he  continued 
in  opposition ;  at  war  with  the  Presi- 
dent's alleged  "executive  usurpations" 
in  his  series  of  bank  measures,  joining 
Clay  and  Webster  in  the  vote  of  cen- 
sure in  the  Senate,  and  resolutely  oppo- 
sing the  "Expunging  Resolution"  so 
pertinaciously  urged  by  Senator  Ben- 
ton, by  which  they  were  blotted  from 
the  record.  "  This  act,"  said  he,  in  the 
closing  scene  of  the  last  mentioned 
affair,  "originates  in  pure,  unmixed, 
personal  idolatry.  It  is  the  melancholy 
evidence  of  a  broken  spirit,  ready  to 
bow  at  the  feet  of  power.  The  former 
act  (the  removal  of  the  deposits)  was 
such  a  one  as  might  have  been  perpe- 
trated in  the  days  of  Pompey  or  Caesar ; 
but  an  act  like  this  could  never  have 
been  consummated  by  a  Roman  senate 
until  the  times  of  Caligula  and  Nero." 
When  the  long  contest  over  the  United 
States  Bank  was  succeeded  by  the  cre- 
ation of  the  Independent  Treasury  in 
the  administration  of  Van  Buren,  Mr. 
Calhoun  gave  that  measure  his  earnest 
support,  setting  forth  at  length  his 
views  on  the  currency  in  several 
speeches,  characterized  by  his  masterly 
power  of  analysis.  This  apparent  de- 
sertion of  the  whigs,  with  whom  he  had 
acted  in  the  bank  contest  with  Jackson, 
drew  upon  him  an  aitack  from  Mr. 
Clay,  to  which  he  replied  in  a  vindica- 
tion, compared  by  an  admirer  to  the 
celebrated  oration  of  Demosthenes, 
for  the  Crown,  in  answer  to  the  as- 
saults of  ^schines. 

Mr.  Calhoun  continued  in  the  Senate 
till  1848,  when  he  declined  a  reelec- 
tion. He  was,  however,  soon  brought 
into  public  life  again  as  the  successor 


JOHN  CALDWELL  CALnOUK 


171 


3f  Mr.  Webster,  as  Secretary  of  State, 
auder  President  Tyler,  in  184:4,  a 
period  of  official  duty  wLicli  lie  em- 
ployed in  paving  tlie  way  for  the 
admission  of  Texas.  On  tlie  expira- 
tion of  Tyler's  term,  lie  again  took  Lis 
seat  in  tlie  Senate,  wliere  lie  became 
tlie  opponent  of  tlie  war  witli  Mexico. 
In  tlie  slavery  discussion  wHcli  arose 
out  of  the  conquest,  he  stood  forward 
as  the  uncompromising  supporter  of 
the  slave  interest,  maintaining  the 
necessity  of  an  equilibrium  between 
the  two  portions  of  the  country,  the 
North  and  the  South.  His  theory  in 
this  relation  is  unfolded  at  length  in 
his  posthumous  work,  the  employment 
of  the  last  years  of  his  life,  the  "Dis- 
quisition on  Government,  and  Discourse 
on  the  Constitution  and  Government 
of  the  United  States,"  edited  by  Mr. 
Eichard  K.  Cralle,  and  published  under 
the  direction  of  the  General  Assembly 
of  the  State  of  South  Carolina.  His 
theory  of  State  Rights  is  argued  in  this 
composition  with  his  accustomed  force 
of  argument  and  felicity  of  expression, 
the  discussion  ending  in  a  curious  pro- 
position to  protect  the  claims  of  the 
minority  by  "a  reorganization  of  the 
executive  department ;  so  that  its  pow- 
ers, instead  of  being  vested,  as  they 
now  are,  in  a  single  officer,  should  be 
vested  in  two ;  to  be  so  elected  as  that 
the  two  should  be  constituted  the 
special  organs  and  representatives  of 
the  respective  sections,  in  the  executive 
department  of  the  government;  and 
requiring  each  to  approve  all  the 
acts  of  Congress  before  they  shall  be- 
come laws."  His  latest  effort  in  the 
Senate,  on  the  13th  March,  was  in  | 


some  remarks  growing  out  of  the  dis- 
cussion on  the  slavery  question.  He 
was  taken  home  exhausted,  and  died  at 
his  residence  at  Washington  the  last 
day  of  March,  1850,  having  just  com- 
pleted his  sixty-eighth  year.  His  dis- 
ease was  a  pulmonary  affection,  aggra- 
vated b}''  difficulty  at  the  heart. 

The  faculties  of  Calhoun  were  emi- 
nently  intellectual.  He  had  little  re- 
gard for  the  merely  rhetorical  or  orna- 
mental, and  it  is  the  highest  proof  of 
his  oratory  that  he  succeeded  in  rous- 
ing his  hearers  by  the  simple  force  of 
argumentative  appeal. 

"  His  mind,"  said  that  eminent  asso- 
ciate of  his  best  days  in  the  capitol,  his 
fellow  member  of  the  oratorical  trium- 
virate, one  with  whom  and  against 
whom  he  had  contended,  who  had  re- 
joiced in  his  aid  and  felt  his  steel, 
Daniel  Webster,  in  his  obituary  re- 
marks in  the  Senate,  "  was  both  percep- 
tive and  vigorous.  It  was  clear,  quick 
and  strong.  The  eloquence  of  Mr.  Cal- 
houn, or  the  manner  in  which  he  exhi- 
bited his  sentiments  in  public  bodies, 
was  part  of  his  intellectual  character. 
It  grew  out  of  the  qualities  of  his 
mind.  It  was  plain,  strong,  terse,  con- 
densed, concise ;  sometimes  impassioned, 
still  always  severe.  Rejecting  orna- 
ment, not  often  seeking  far  for  illus- 
tration, his  power  consisted  in  the 
plainness  of  his  propositions,  in  the 
closeness  of  his  logic,  and  in  the  ear- 
nestness and  energy  of  his  manner. 
These  are  the  qualities  which  have  ena- 
bled him  through  such  a  long  course  of 
years  to  speak  often,  and  yet  always 
command  attention."  He  noticed  also 
the  unmixed  devotion  of  his  life  to 


172 


JOHN  CALDWELL  CALHOtlN. 


political  duties,  of  his  zealous  occupa- 
tion in  serious  employment,  "  seeming 
to  liave  no  recreation  but  the  pleasure 
of  conversation  with  his  friends,"  while 
he  celebrated  the  charms  of  that  con- 
versational talent,  and  the  delight  of 
its  possessor  to  exercise  it,  particularly 
in  com]3any  with  the  young.  The 
eulogy  ended  with  a  tribute  to  "the 
unspotted  integrity  and  unimpeached 
honor"  of  the  man  and  statesman. 
"If  he  had  aspirations,  they  were  high 
and  honorable  and  noble.  There  was 
nothing  grovelling  or  low  or  meanly 
selfish,  that  came  near  the  head  or  the 
heart  of  Mr.  Calhoun.  Firm  in  his 
purpose,  perfectly  patriotic  and  honest, 
as  I  am  sure  he  was,  in  the  principles 


that  he  espoused,  and  in  the  measures 
that  he  defended,  aside  from  that  larjxe 
regard  for  the  species  of  distinction 
that  conducted  him  to  eminent  stations 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Republic,  I  do 
not  believe  he  had  a  selfish  motive  or 
selfish  feeling,"  Consistent  with  this 
generous  eulogy  of  his  high  toned  pub- 
lic career  is  the  tenor  of  the  great 
senator's  private  life.  His  liberal  hos- 
pitality and  heartfelt  enjoyment  of  the 
beauties  of  nature  at  his  seat.  Fort 
Hill,  surrounded  by  his  family,  in 
the  mountain  region  of  his  native  State, 
his  kindness  to  his  friends  and  depen- 
dants, his  fondness  for  agriculture, 
all  stamp  the  man  of  genuine  simplicity 
of  mind. 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


The  great  orator  of  New  England, 
and  eminent  statesman  and  publicist 
of  the  whole  country,  was  descended 
from  a  race  of  honest  yeomen  in  Ame- 
rica who  traced  their  ancestry  to  an  an- 
cient Scottish  origin.  The  first  of  the 
family  in  America  appears  to  have 
been  one  Thomas  Webster,  who  was 
settled  in  Hampton,  New  Hampshire, 
in  1636.  From  him  Daniel  Webster 
traced  his  direct  descent.  He  was  his 
great-great-grandfather.  His  son  Ebe- 
nezerwas  the  father  of  one  who  bore  the 
same  name,  who  was  the  parent  of  a 
third  Ebenezer,  the  father  of  the  ora- 
tor. This  last-mentioned  Ebenezer  was 
a  small  farmer  in  Kingston,  New  Hamp- 
shire, a  man  of  fine  personal  appear- 
ance, of  energy  and  character,  and 
selftaught,  rising  to  positions  of  trust 
and  confidence  among  his  townspeople. 
He  was  called  upon  in  his  youth  to 
fight  the  battles  of  the  Crown  in  the 
wars  with  France,  and  served  with  dis- 
tinction in  the  famous  company  of  Ran- 
gers commanded  by  Colonel  Rogers, 
who  gave  so  good  an  account  of  them- 
selves in  the  region  of  Lake  Champlain 
and  on  the  borders  of  Canada.  On 
the  conclusion  of  peace,  in  1763,  and 
the  consequent  opening  of  the  frontier 
to  settlement,  he  became  one  of  an  ad- 
venturous party  which  advanced  to  a 
n.— 22 


new  location  on  the  Merrimac.  The 

place  was  so  distant  at  that  time  that, 
in  the  words  of  his  eloquent  son,  many 
years  afterwards,  when  Ebenezer  Web- 
ster lapped  on,  a  little  beyond  any 
other  comer,  and  had  built  his  log  cab- 
in and  lighted  his  fire,  his  smoke  as- 
cended nearer  to  the  North  Star  than 
that  of  any  other  of  his  majesty's 
New  England  subjects.  His  nearest 
civilized  neighbor  on  the  north  was 
at  Montreal." 

At  this  spot,  which  took  the  name 
of  Salisbury,  Daniel  was  born,  the 
fruit  of  a  second  marriage,  January  18, 
1782.  His  mother,  Abigail  Eastman, 
was  a  woman  of  much  force  of  charac 
ter,  and  of  a  self-relying  instinct.  To 
her  and  his  father,  Daniel  was  alike  in- 
debted for  that  opportunity  of  distinc- 
tion in  the  world  which  he  so  diligent- 
ly improved.  When  the  Revolution 
came  on.  Captain  Webster,  like  many 
another  hero  of  the  seven  years'  war, 
took  the  field  in  the  service  of  his 
countrymen.  He  was  in  the  engage- 
ment at  White  Plains,  and  a  major  un- 
der the  famous  Stark,  at  Bennington. 

The  first  education  of  Daniel  was  at 
the  hands  of  his  mother  or  elder  sisters. 
He  said  that  he  never  could  recollect  a 
time  when  he  could  not  read  the  Bible. 
He  had  also  his  share  in  the  humble 

178 


174: 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


instructions  of  the  district  schoolmas- 
ter, wlio  had  found  his  way  even  to 
that  remote  region.  He  probably 
owed  little  to  such  teachers,  for  they 
had  nothing  to  impart  but  reading  and 
writing,  which  did  not  always  include 
correct  spelling.  For  such  association 
as  he  had  with  them,  however,  the  pu- 
pil was  not  ungrateful,  when,  more  than 
half  a  century  afterward,  venerable 
Master  Tappan  reminded  him  of  his 
existence  and  of  these  early  lessons. 
The  great  lawyer  then  recalled  how  the 
schoolmaster  had  once  taken  his  turn  of 
migratory  living  at  his  father's  house, 
and  cordially  assisted  his  preceptor  in  his 
old  age.  A  few  books  which  had  found 
their  way  to  a  village  library  at  Salis- 
bury, founded  by  the  lawyer  and  cler- 
gyman of  the  place  and  his  father,  were 
far  more  profitable  instructors.  The 
"  Spectator  "  was  among  them,  and  the 
young  Daniel  took  delight  in  the  stir- 
ring ballad  of  Chevy  Chase,  the  verses 
of  which  he  picked  out  from  the  set- 
ting of  criticism  in  which  Addison  had 
imbedded  them.  Isaac  Watts  he  had 
by  heart,  and  Pope's  "  Essay  on  Man," 
brought  home  by  his  father  in  a  pam- 
phlet, was  at  once  added  to  this  stock 
of  rhymes.  The  seed  fell  into  an  ea- 
ger soil.  He  tells  us  how  he  met,  a 
few  years  later,  with  Don  Quixote,  and 
that  he  was  so  entranced  with  "  that 
extraordinary  book,"  so  great  was  its 
power  over  his  imagination,  that  he 
never  closed  his  eyes  till  he  ha9.  fin- 
ished it. 

Here,  however,  the  education  of 
the  youth  might  have  been  arrested 
had  he  not  shown  signs  of  a  feeble 
constitution,  which  was  judged  too  lit- 


tle serviceable  for  the  plough.  Like 
his  elder  brother,  Ebenezer,  he  would 
have  been  assigned  to  the  farmer's 
duty.  But  other  visions  doubtless  in- 
terfered. In  one  of  the  statesman's  let- 
ters recalling  these  early  scenes,  he  tells 
us  of  the  arrival,  one  hot  day  in  July, 
about  the  close  of  Washington's  admi- 
nistration, of  a  member  of  Congress 
who  came  up  to  his  father  and  himself 
at  work  together  in  the  field.  The 
contrast  struck  the  parent  between  the 
rising  man  of  the  State,  honorably  paid, 
and  his  own  life  of  ill-requited  toil. 
"  My  son,"  said  the  father,  "  that  is  a 
worthy  man — ^he  is  a  member  of  Con- 
gress ;  he  goes  to  Philadelphia  and  gets 
six  dollars  a  day,  while  I  toil  here.  It 
is  because  he  had  an  education  which 
I  never  had.  If  I  had  had  his  early 
education,  I  should  have  been  in 
Philadelphia  in  his  place.  I  came 
near  it  as  it  was;  but  I  missed  it, 
and  now  I  must  work  here."  "My 
dear  father,"  was  the  reply,  "  you  shall 
not  work.  Brother  and  I  will  work 
for  you,  and  wear  our  hands  out,  and 
you  shall  rest."  And  I  remember  to 
have  cried,  and  I  cry  now — it  is  Daniel 
Webster,  in  one  of  his  later  years, 
writing — at  the  recollection.  "My 
child,"  said  the  father,  "  it  is  of  no  im- 
portance to  me — I  now  live  but  for  my 
children ;  I  could  not  give  your  elder 
brother  the  advantages  of  knowledge  ; 
but  I  can  do  something  for  you.  Ex- 
ert yourself,  improve  your  opportuni- 
ties—learn,  and  when  I  am  gone 
you  will  not  need  to  go  through  the 
hardships  which  I  have  undergone  and 
which  have  made  me  an  old  man  be- 
fore my  time." 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


175 


This  was  the  spirit  with  which, 
mounting  liis  horse  and  placing  his  son 
on  another,  he  conducted  him  to  the 
Phillips  iVcademy,  at  Exeter,  presided 
over  by  that  eminent  instructor.  Dr. 
Benjamin  Abbott,  and  then  in  the  first 
enjoyment  of  the  posthumous  bounty 
of  its  disinterested  founder.  The  youth 
had  recently  completed  his  fourteenth 
year,  and,  if  we  may  judge  from  the 
modest  narrative  which  he  has  himself 
left  in  a  fragment  of  autobiography, 
does  not  appear  to  have  exhibited  any 
extraordinary  precocity.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  manifested  a  repugnance  and 
apparent  inability  to  do  at  all  what  he 
was  celebrated  in  after  life  for  doing  so 
much  better  than  others  :  he  could  not 
be  induced  by  any  appeal,  and  even 
the  chagrin  of  his  own  mortifications, 
to  go  through  a  simple  declamation  in 
presence  of  the  school.  He  was  utterly 
unable,  when  his  name  was  called,  to 
raise  himself  from  his  seat.  "When 
the  occasion  was  over,"  he  adds,  "I 
went  home  and  wept  bitter  tears  of 
mortification."  He  had  good  teachers, 
men  who  became  eminent  in  the  pro- 
fessions, among  them  Joseph  Stevens 
Buckminster,  who  heard  his  first  reci- 
tations in  Latin ;  and  he  formed  thus 
early  many  friendships  which  lasted 
through  life.  After  nearly  a  year  at 
Exeter,  he  was  placed  in  charge  of 
the  Rev.  Samuel  "Wood  at  Boscawen, 
not  far  from  his  father's  residence. 
This  gentleman  pursued  education  for 
the  love  of  it,  and  for  the  reward  it 
brought  him  in  the  elevation  of  a  Chris- 
tian community.  His  fees  were  always 
trifling,  and  he  had,  on  occasion,  no  un- 
willingness to  relinquish  them  altoge- 


ther, for  the  greater  glcry  of  the  com- 
monwealth, provided  only  he  sent  sons 
to  his  favoiite  Dartmouth.  He  thus 
forwarded,  from  under  his  own  roof, 
more  than  a  hundred  to  the  institution. 

As  the  father  of  young  Webster  ac- 
companied him  on  the  way  to  his  new 
home  with  this  kind  preceptor,  he  in- 
timated the  intention  of  sending  him 
to  college.  The  promise  was  welcomed 
with  fear  and  joy,  and  a  depth  of  emo- 
tion most  honorable  to  the  recipient. 
In  our  day,  when  facilities  of  this  kind 
are  so  freely  extended,  it  is  not  easy  to 
appreciate  the  kind  and  degree  of  gra- 
titude thus  awakened  in  an  ingenuous 
youth.  "  The  very  idea,"  wrote  the 
thankful  son  in  the  fulness  of  his 
reputation,  "  thrilled  my  whole  frame. 
My  father  said  he  then  lived  but  for 
his  children,  and  if  I  would  do  all  I 
could  for  myself,  he  would  do  what  he 
could  for  me.  I  remember  that  I  was 
quite  overcome,  and  my  head  grew 
dizzy.  The  thing  appeared  to  me  so 
high,  and  the  expense  and  sacrifice  it 
was  to  cost  my  father,  so  great,  I  could 
only  press  his  hands  and  shed  tears. 
Excellent,  excellent  parent !  I  cannot 
think  of  him,  even  now,  without  tm^n- 
insr  child  ao;ain." 

With  his  new  instructor,  Daniel  read 
Virgil  and  Cicero,  and  was  warmed  by 
the  latter  to  an  enthusiasm  for  oratory 
which  never  afterwards  failed  him. 
"  With  what  vehemence  did  I  denounce 
Catiline  !  with  what  earnestness  strug- 
gle for  Milo !"  Put  thus  upon  the 
track — his  preparation  was  little  more 
— he  entered  Dartmouth  College  as  a 
freshman  in  August,  1797.  He  was  a 
diligent,  earnest  student,  and  became 


176 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


highly  esteemed  for  his  proficiency,  es- 
pecially in  the  rhetoric  and  belles  let- 
tres  departments.  There  is  evidence 
of  this  in  the  fact  that  he  gained  his 
support  for  a  year  by  superintending  a 
little  weekly  newspaper,  for  which  he 
made  the  selections  and  to  which  he 
occasionally  contributed,  and  in  his  de- 
livery, in  his  junior  year,  in  1800,  of  a 
Fourth  of  July  oration  before  the  good 
people  of  Hanover.  The  address  was 
printed,  and  remains  to  witness,  in  its 
sounding  periods,  to  his  patriotic  fer- 
vor, which  even  then  did  not  overlook 
the  blessings  of  constitutional  govern- 
ment. The  young  orator  would  doubt- 
less have  shone  with  equal  distinc- 
tion, the  following  year,  on  taking  his 
degree,  had  he  not  thrown  himself  out 
of  his  appointment  by  one  of  those  al- 
tercations not  uncommon  with  the 
arrangement  of  these  college  exercises. 
The  Faculty,  out  of  regard  for  his 
English  attainments,  assigned  him  the 
second  part,  an  English  Oration  or 
Poem,  in  place  of  the  Latin  Salutatory. 
Disappointed  with  this  order,  he  took 
no  part  in  the  Commencement  exer- 
cises, though  he  delivered  at  the  time 
an  oration  on  "  The  Influence  of  Opin- 
ion," before  the  leading  college  Society, 
which  gained  him  great  applause. 

He  left  College,  however,  with  a 
higher  claim  to  self  respect  than  any 
admiration  of  a  promiscuous  audience. 
The  very  year  on  which  he  graduated 
he  had  been  instrumental  in  bringing 
his  elder  brother  Ezekiel  to  the  spot, 
and  leaving  him  there  on  the  high 
road  to  professional  eminence  equal- 
ling his  own  subsequent  achieve- 
ments.   It  was  while  in  his  sopho- 


more year,  during  a  va,cation  at  home, 
that  the  thought  of  thus  benefiting 
his  brother  was  seriously  taken  up  by 
him.  A  whole  night  was  passed  in 
bed  between  the  two  youths  in  con- 
sultation on  the  subject,  neither  clos- 
ing his  eyes ;  but  daylight  brought 
the  decision  with  it,  and  it  was  in 
consequence  of  the  earnest  appeal  of 
Daniel  that  Ezekiel  was  taken  from 
the  plough  and  placed  under  the  tute- 
lary care  of  the  beneficent  clergyman, 
Samuel  Wood.  Thence  he  passed  to 
college,  and  we  shall  see  how  hand- 
somely his  brother  seconded  his  advice 
by  contributing  to  his  support  while 
there. 

Immediately  on  graduating,  Daniel 
entered  the  law  office  of  his  father's 
neighbor,  Thomas  W.  Thompson,  a 
man  of  some  note  in  his  day  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  State  legislature,  and  a  Sen- 
ator in  Congress,  but  he  was  presently 
called  off  from  his  legal  studies  by  the 
necessity  of  making  some  pecuniary 
provision  for  himself,  and  in  this  strait 
accepted  the  offer  of  a  school  at  Frye- 
burg,  in  Maine.  He  was  led  to  this 
step  by  what  was  then,  to  him,  the 
munificent  salary  of  three  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  a  year,  "  no  small  thing,"  he 
says,  "  for  I  compared  it  not  with  what 
might  be  before  me,  but  what  was 
actually  behind  me  " — a  proper  method, 
by  the  way,  of  estimating  one's  for- 
tunes, which  would  lead  to  a  more  gen- 
eral content.  In  addition  to  this  he 
continued  to  get  something  more  of 
consequence  by  copying  deeds  for  the 
registry  of  the  newly  created  county 
of  Oxford.  As  exact  penmanship  was 
always  a  troublesome  labor  to  him,  we 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


177 


may  estimate  Lis  diligence.  Thirty 
years,  lie  afterward  said,  had  not  taken 
tlie  ache  of  that  exercise  out  of  his  fin- 
gers. 

His  first  vacation,  in  May,  1802, 
was  passed  in  caiTying  his  quarter's 
salary  to  his  brother  at  Hanover,  thus 
devotino;  his  first  earninsi;s  to  an  act  of 
fraternal  friendship.  He  left  Frye- 
burg  in  the  autumn,  and  resumed  the 
study  of  the  law  with  his  father's 
friend,  Mr.  Thompson.  Like  Story,  he 
began  with  the  apex  of  professional  ap- 
plication, Coke  upon  Littleton,  and 
such  early  and  obscure  authorities,  and 
was  grievously  disheartened  by  the 
process,  till  luckily,  one  day,  falling 
upon  Espinasse's  law  of  Nisi  Prius,  he 
found  that  he  could  understand  what 
he  read.  He  always,  he  said,  felt  great- 
ly obliged  to  that  gentleman  for  his 
intelligible  labors.  At  the  proper  time 
"Webster  as  a  law  student  did  not  shun 
the  more  laborious  literature  of  the 
profession.  He  was  meanwhile  assist- 
ed at  Salisbury  by  his  father's  limited 
income  as  judge  of  the  Coui't  of  Com- 
mon Pleas  for  the.  county. 

His  brother  Ezekiel  having  now  gra- 
duated, after  eking  out  his  support 
through  three  years  of  college  life, 
which  he  made  to  do  the  work  of  four, 
by  winter  school  teaching,  it  had  be- 
come necessary,  writes  Daniel,  for  one 
of  us  to  "  undertake  something  that 
should  bring  us  a  little  money,  for  we 
were  getting  to  be  '  heinously  unpro- 
vided.' "  The  younger  brother  accord- 
ingly set  off  for  Boston,  secured  a 
teacher's  place  in  that  city  for  Ezekiel, 
who  in  turn  invited  the  elder  thither 
with  the  promise  of  pecuniary  assistance, 


while  he  prosecuted  his  law  studies. 
In  this  way  these  brothers  labored  for 
one  another.  Daniel  accordingly  pi'o- 
ceeded  to  Boston,  with  the  intention 
of  making  his  way  into  the  law.  He 
had  no  letters  of  introduction,  and  the 
future  ruler  of  the  Boston  bar  failed  in 
his  first  attempts  to  gain  admission  to 
an  oflice  to  study.  He  however  made 
a  vigorous  attempt  with  an  eminent 
man  who  had  been  employed  in  Eng 
land  in  the  diplomatic  service  of  the 
country,  and  who  rose  to  be  governor  of 
Massachusetts,  Christopher  Gore.  In 
the  interview  the  youth  was  thrown 
upon  his  best  address,  and  succeeded 
in  securing  the  coveted  opening.  A 
good  library  was  now  accessible  to  him, 
with  an  opportunity  which  he  availed 
himself  of,  of  attending  the  higher 
coxirts. 

He  read  diligently,  and  made  notes 
of  his  observations.  In  1805  he  was 
admitted  to  practice  in  the  Suffolk 
Court  of  Common  Pleas.  It  was  not, 
however,  without  a  relinquishment  of 
immediate  benefit  which  cost  him  an 
effort.  Not  long  before  the  completion 
of  his  legal  studies,  an  office  fell  va- 
cant in  his  father's  court,  which  he  was 
selected  to  fill.  It  was'  a  clerkship 
with  an  income  of  fifteen  hundred  dol- 
lars a  year.  Here  was  wealth  for  the 
family  to  be  clutched  at  with  eager- 
ness. His  father  thouo-ht  it  a  ffreat 
prize  gained,  and  so  .did  the  son,  who 
was  hastening  to  enter  this  "  opening 
paradise."  when  he  encountered  the  ad- 
vice of  Mr.  Gore.  This  learned  coun- 
sellor and  man  of  experience  took  the 
matter  very  coolly,  said  it  was  undoubt- 
edly a  complimentary  offer,  and  that 


178 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


he  should  acknowledge  it  with  all  civ- 
ility— in  other  words,  his  monitor 
wisely  pointed  out  to  him  the  steady 
path  and  sure  rewards  of  his  profession, 
in  preference  to  the  immediate  but  un- 
certain tenure  of  office.  "  Go  on,"  was 
his  memorable  advice,  worthy,  in  these 
days  of  office-seeking  and  its  melan- 
choly adjuncts,  of  being  written  in  let- 
ters of  gold  on  our  page — "  go  on  and 
finish  your  studies :  you  are  poor 
enough,  but  there  are  greater  evils  than 
poverty  ;  live  on  no  man's  favor ;  what 
bread  you  do  eat,  let  it  be  the  bread 
of  independence ;  pursue  your  profes- 
sion, make  yourself  useful  to  your 
friends,  and  a  little  formidable  to  your 
enemies,  and  you  have  nothing  to  fear." 
Fortified  with  this  invigorating  coun- 
sel, the  youth  went  down  to  his  father 
and  somewhat  startled  the  kind  old 
gentleman,  in  the  first  flush  of  the  pro- 
mised acquisition,  by  declining  it  in 
favor  of  his  future  prospects.  Was 
the  boy's  talk  empty  flattery,  or  was  it 
prophecy  ?  The  father,  in  his  reply, 
seemed  uncertain.  "  Well,  my  son," 
said  he,  and  it  was  all  that  he  said  on 
the  subject,  "  your  mother  has  always 
said  that  you  would  come  to  something 
or  nothing,  she  was  not  sure  which ;  I 
think  you  are  now  about  settling  that 
doubt  for  her."  The  first  return  of  the 
youth  for  this  paternal  solicitude,  when 
he  reached  his  admission  to  the  bar, 
was  settling  himself  by  the  side  of  his 
father,  in  the  neighboring  village  of 
Boscawen,  in  the  practice  of  his  pro- 
fession. He  thus  solaced,  by  his  com- 
pany, the  last  year  of  that  parent's 
life. 

Two  years  and  a  half  were  spent  in 


this  limited  field  of  legal  practice,  when 
he  removed  to  Portsmouth,  relinquish- 
ing his  local  business  to  his  brother,  who 
was  then  commencing  a  career  at  the 
bar,  which  soon  led  to  great  distinction 
in  his  State,  and  would,  doubtless,  have 
made  him  as  well  known  to  the  nation 
at  large,  had  his  life  been  prolonged. 
At  Portsmouth,  Daniel  married,  in 
1808,  Miss  Grace  Fletcher,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  clergyman  of  valued  New 
England  lineage,  and  there  he  con- 
tinued to  reside  till  1817.  In  this 
enlarged  sphere,  he  appears  to  have 
met  with  immediate  success,  entering 
at  once,  not  indeed  upon  a  very  lucra- 
tive practice,  but  sharing  the  honors  of 
the  bar  of  New  Hampshire  with  some 
of  its  most  distinguished  adepts.  He 
was  employed  chiefly  on  the  circuit  of 
the  Superior  Court,  where,  as  leading 
counsel,  he  frequently  became  the 
antagonist  of  Jeremiah  Mason,  then 
in  the  height  of  his  vigor.  The  emu- 
lation of  the  young  lawyer  with  this 
distinguished  counsellor,  with  whom 
he  was  often  associated  as  well  as  in 
opposition,  was  blended  with  the  warm- 
est friendship.'  He  often  recurred  to 
this  period  in  after  life,  and  when  it 
became  his  lot,  many  years  later,  to 
perform  the  final  act  of  courtesy,  in 
pronouncing  a  eulogy  on  the  decease 
of  his  friend,  it  was  in  no  feigned  or 
guarded  words  that  he  spoke.  Re- 
strained by  "proprieties  of  the  occa- 
sion," he  would  not,  he  said,  in  the 
course  of  his  noble  tribute,  give  utter- 
ance to  the  personal  feelings  which 
rose  in  his  heart,  in  recalling  "  a  sincere, 
affectionate  and  unbroken  friendship, 
from  the  day  when  I  commenced  my 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


170 


o\vu  professional  career  to  tlie  closing 
hour  of  Lis  life.  I  will  not  say,"  lie 
added,  "of  the  advantages  which  I 
have  derived  from  this  intercourse  and 
conversation,  all  that  Mr.  Fox  said  of 
Edmund  Burke ;  but  I  am  bound  to 
say,  that  of  my  own  professional  disci- 
pline and  attainments,  whatever  they 
may  be,  I  owe  much  to  that  close 
attention  to  the  discharge  of  my  duties, 
which  I  was  compelled  to  pay  for  nine 
successive  years,  from  day  to  day,  by 
Mr.  ]\Iason's  elforts  and  arguments  at 
the  same  bar ;  and  I  must  have  been 
unintelligent,  indeed,  not  to  have 
learned  something  from  the  constant 
displays  of  that  power,  which  I  had 
so  much  occasion  to  see  and  to  feel." 

Mr.  Webster's  residence,  at  Ports- 
mouth, saw  his  introduction  into  public 
life.  Passing  over  the  usual  prelimi- 
nary experience  of  service  in  the  State 
legislature,  he  was  at  once,  in  Novem- 
ber, 1812,  elected  by  the  Federal  party, 
to  which  he  was  attached,  to  the  Con- 
gress of  the  United  States.  On  taking 
his  seat,  in  May,  1813,  he  was  appointed 
by  the  speaker,  Henry  Clay,  on  the 
important  Committee  of  Foreign  Af- 
fairs. War  with  England  had  just 
been  declared,  and  the  news  of  the 
repeal  of  the  obnoxious  French  De- 
crees and  English  Orders  in  Council, 
which  had  so  grievously  injured  the 
commerce  of  the  country,  and  deeply 
irritated  the  mind  of  the  nation,  had 
just  come  to  hand.  It  was  in  offering 
a  resolution,  in  reference  to  the  Berlin 
and  Milan  Decrees,  calling  out  the 
motives  of  the  contest,  that  Webster, 
early  in  the  session,  delivered  his 
maiden  speech.    It  was  listened  to, 


among  others,  by  Chief  Justice  Mar- 
shall, who  predicted  the  fxiture  impor- 
tance of  the  orator,  destined,  he  wrote 
to  a  friend,  to  become  "  one  of  the  very 
first  statesmen  in  America,  and  perhaps 
the  very  first."  No  full  report  of  the 
speech  has  been  preserved,  but  suffi- 
cient of  it  is  known  to  justify  the  con- 
clusion of  Mr.  Edward  Everett,  who 
sums  up  its  merits,  in  language,  as  he 
intimates,  applicable  to  the  whole 
course  of  the  orator's  subsequent  par- 
liamentary efforts.  He  speaks  of  the 
"  moderation  of  tone,  precision  of  state- 
ment, force  of  reasoning,  absence  of 
ambitious  rhetoric  and  high  flown  lan- 
guage, occasional  bursts  of  true  elo- 
quence, and,  pervading  the  whole,  a 
genuine  and  fervid  patriotism."  When- 
ever he  spoke,  these  were  his  character- 
istics, which  at  once  gained  him  the 
respect  of  the  wisest  judgments  in  the 
House,  which  at  that  time  held  an  unu- 
sual number  of  eminent  men. 

Though  opposed  to  some  of  the  prom- 
inent measures  of  the  administration  of 
Madison,  he  was  not  its  factious  oppo- 
nent. He  was  ardent  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  rights  of  his  country,  though 
he  differed  with  the  party  in  power  as 
to  the  best  means  of  securing  them.  He 
thought  the  force  of  the  nation  was 
weakened  by  attempts  at  invasion  on 
the  frontiers,  and  maintained  that  a 
well  manned  navy  was  a  better  defence 
for  the  seaboard  than  an  embargo 
which  strangled  a  commerce  that  other- 
wise would  only  be  open  to  assault. 
In  fine,  Webster  exhibited  thus  early 
that  moderation  of  statesmanship,  which 
marked  his  subsequent  course.  In  the 
language  of  his  friend  and  eulogist 


180 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


whom  we  have  just  cited  :  "  It  was  not 
the  least  conspicuous  of  the  strongly 
marked  qualities  of  his  character  as  a 
public  man,  that  at  a  time  when  party- 
spirit  went  to  great  lengths,  he  never 
permitted  himself  to  be  infected  with 
its  contagion.  His  opinions  were  firmly 
maintained  and  boldly  expressed ;  but 
without  bitterness  from  those  who  dif- 
fered from  him.  He  cultivated  friendly 
relations  on  both  sides  of  the  House, 
and  gained  the  personal  respect  even 
of  those  with  whom  he  most  differed." 
It  is  a  lesson  not  to  be  lost  sight  of  by 
politicians,  or  any  who  would  serve  the 
country  where  its  diverse  interests  are 
in  hostile  array. 

Mr.' Webster  was  reelected  to  Con- 
gress in  1814,  and  the  war  being  now 
ended,   entered  with  zeal  into  the 
measures  of  reorganization  of  the  mate- 
rial interests  of  the  country.    His  pro- 
fession at  home,  too,  was  making  larger 
demands  upon  his  attention,  while  his 
private  affairs  had  suffered  by  the  de- 
struction of  his  house  and  property  in 
a  conflagration  at  Portsmouth.  This, 
with  the  general  progress  of  his  for- 
tunes, determined  him  upon  taking  up 
his  residence  in   Boston,  a  measure 
which,  of  course,  withdrew  him  from 
his  New  Hampshire  constituency,  and 
his  seat  in  Congress,  while  this  tempo- 
rary absence  from  Washington  enabled 
him  to  occupy  himself  in  several  im- 
portant professional   cases.  Foremost 
among  them,  the  first  of  a  series  mem- 
orable in  the  annals  of  the  bar,  was 
his  final  argument  before  the  Supreme 
Court,  at  the  seat  of  government,  in 
defence  of  Dartmouth  College  against 
the  interference  of  the  State  legislature. 


His  maintenance,  on  that  occasion,  of 
the  inviolability  of  corporate  rights, 
followed  by  the  decision  of  the  Court, 
pronounced  by  Chief  Justice  Marshall, 
established  collegiate  and  other  pro- 
perty on  an  unassailable  foundation. 
The  fervor  of  his  appeal,  as  he  pro- 
nounced this  lofty  argument  for  the 
college  in  which  he  had  been  educated, 
is  said  to  have  affected  the  sensibilities 
of  his  audience — an  audience  not  accus- 
tomed to  much  personal  agitation.  But 
we  see  nothing  of  this  in  the  severe 
Spartan  brevity  of  the  legal  points  of 
the  argument  as  preserved  in  his  writ- 
ings, though  we  may  well  credit  it  on 
the  testimony  of  Mr.  George  Ticknor 
who  tells  us,  "many  betrayed  strong 
emotion,  many  were  dissolved  in 
tears." 

This  final  hearing  of  the  question 
took  place  in  1818,  two  years  after 
Mr.  Webster  had  made  his  home  in 
Boston.  It  was  followed  by  other 
cases  of  equal  professional  distinction, 
but  the  great  Dartmouth  question, 
marking  his  entrance  upon  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  nation,  is  the  great  land- 
mark of  his  legal  career. 

In  the  revision  of  the  constitution 
of  Massachusetts,  in  1820,  Mr.  Web- 
ster was  chosen  one  of  the  delegates 
from  Boston,  and  the  observation 
made  by  his  biographer,  Mr.  Eve- 
rett, is  worthy  of  note,  that  "with 
the  exception  of  a  few  days'  ser- 
vice, two  or  three  years  afterward,  in 
the  Massachusetts  House  of  Kepre- 
sentatives,  this  is  the  only  occasion  on 
which  he  ever  filled  any  political  ofSce 
under  the  State  government,  either  of 
Massachusetts  or  New  Hampshire."  He 


DANIEL 

rose  rapidly  in  law  and  politics  to  the 
liigliest  positions.  His  speeches  in  the 
Convention  on  "  Qualifications  for  Of- 
fice," in  which,  while  maintaining  the 
sanction  of  religion,  he  advocated  the 
remission  of  special  tests  of  religious 
belief,  the  "  Basis  of  the  Senate,"  sup- 
porting a  property  representation  in 
the  apportionment  of  electoral  districts, 
according  to  their  taxation,  and  the 
"Independence  of  the  Judiciary,"  are 
included  in  his  collected  works. 

It  was  in  this  same  year,  1820,  that 
Mr.  Webster  delivered  the  first  of  those 
anniversary  and  occasional  discourses, 
which,  equally  with  his  forensic  and 
political  exertions,  gave  him  his  great 
popular  reputation.  He  had,  indeed, 
previously  delivered  various  addresses, 
but  his  Plymouth  oration,  on  the  first 
settlement  of  New  England,  gave  im- 
portance to  these  efforts,  and  has  raised 
a  department  of  oratory,  in  his  own 
hands  and  that  of  others  of  distin- 
guished merit,  to  a  high  and  distinctive 
place  in  the  literature  of  the  country. 
This  discourse  was  pronounced  on  the 
twenty-second  of  December,  two  hun- 
dred years  after  the  landing  of  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers.  Opening,  as  was  his 
wont,  with  a  few  dignified  general  re- 
flections, looking  into  the  philosophy 
of  common  truths  applicable  to  his 
subject,  he  proceeded  to  present  the 
cause  of  emigration,  which  he  found  in 
religious  fervor  and  love  of  indepen- 
dence ;  the  peculiarities  of  the  settle- 
ment as  distinguished  from  other  in- 
stances of  colonization,  reviewing  the 
colonies  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  their 
social  and  military  principles,  and  then 
descending  to  the  trading  establish- 
n.— 23 


WEBSTER.  181 

ments  of  modern  times;   after  that, 
taking  up  the  retrospect  of  the  century 
just  ended,  with  the  progress  of  New 
England  through  the  Revolution  in 
political  and  civil  history,  he  proceeded 
with  some  observations  on  the  nature 
and  constitution  of  government  in  the 
country.     The   general   diffusion  of 
wealth,  with  its  interests  and  responsi- 
bilities, and  the  provision  for  educa- 
tion, he  found  to  be  the  motive  and 
safeguard  of  republican  institutions. 
He  closed  with  an  invocation  worthy 
the   best   days    of   ancient  oratory. 
"  Advance  then,  ye  future  generations  ! 
We  would  hail  you,  as  you  rise  in  your 
long  succession,  to  fill  the  places  which 
we  now  fill,  and  to  taste  the  blessings 
of  existence  where  we  are  passing,  and 
soon  shall  have  passed,  our  own  human 
duration.   We  bid  you  welcome  to  this 
pleasant  land  of  the  fathers.    We  bid 
you  welcome  to  the  healthful  skies  and 
the  verdant  fields  of  New  England. 
We  greet  your  accession  to  the  great  in- 
heritance which  we  have  enjoyed.  We 
welcome  you  to  the  blessings  of  good 
government  and  religious  liberty.  We 
welcome  you  to  the  treasures  of  science 
and  the   delights   of  learning.  We 
welcome  you  to  the  transcendent  sweets 
of  domestic  life,  to  the  happiness  of 
kindred  and  parents  and  children.  We 
welcome  you  to  the  immeasurable  bles- 
sings of  rational  existence,  the  immor- 
tal hope  of  Christianity,  and  the  light 
of  everlasting  truth." 

Other  passages  might  be  citea  from 
this  discourse,  in  proof  of  the  speaker's 
great  capacity  for  oratory.  His  descrip- 
tion, near  the  commencement,  of  the 
day  of  Marathon,  and  of  the  feai's  and 


1S2 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


liopes  inspired  in  the  breast  of  the  tra- 
veller, Avhom  he  canies  back  in  imagi- 
nation to  the  pregnant  moments  of  the 
decisive  contest,  whom  he  fancies  trem- 
bling for  the  destiny  of  civilization,  in 
his  over\yhelming  anxiety,  "  as  if  it  were 
still  uncertain,  doubting  whether  he 
may  consider  Socrates  and  Plato,  De- 
mosthenes, Sophocles  and  Phidias,  as 
secure,  yet,  to  himself  and  the  world." 
Still  more  impressive,  perhaps,  is  his 
picture,  with  its  subtle  undercurrent  of 
home  application,  of  Eome  childless  in 
the  midst  of  her  colonies,  with  no  son 
of  hers  succeeding  when  the  parent 
state  should  totter  and  fall.  We  read 
of  Rome,  but  our  thoughts  are  on  Eng- 
land and  America.  "  It  was  not  given 
to  Rome,"  is  the  language  of  this  sub- 
lime theme,  "  to  see,  either  at  her  ze- 
nith or  in  her  decline,  a  child  of  her 
own,  distant,  indeed,  and  independent 
of  her  control,  yet  speaking  her  lan- 
guage and  inheriting  her  blood,  spring- 
ino-  forward  to  a  competition  with  her 
own  power,  and  a  comparison  with  her 
own  great  renown.  She  saw  not  a  vast 
region  of  the  earth  peopled  from  -her 
stock,  full  of  states  and  political  com- 
munities, improving  upon  the  models 
of  her  institutions  and  breathing  in 
fuller  measure  the  spirit  which  she  had 
breathed  in  the  best  periods  of  her  ex- 
istence ;  enjoying  and  extending  her 
arts  and  her  literature ;  rising  rapidly 
from  political  childhood  to  manly 
strength  and  independence ;  her  oif- 
spriug,  yet  now  her  equal;  uncon- 
nected with  the  causes  which  might 
affect  the  duration  of  her  own  power 
and  greatness;  of  common  origin, 
but   not  linked  to  a  common  fate ; 


giving  ample  pledge  that  her  name 
should  not  be  forgotten,  that  her 
lanffuao-e  should  not  cease  to  be 
used  among  men  ;  that  whatsoever  she 
had  done  for  human  knowledge  and 
human  happiness  should  be  treasured 
up  and  preserved ;  that  the  record  of 
her  existence  and  her  achievements 
should  not  be  obscured,  although,  in 
the  inscrutable  purposes  of  Providence, 
it  might  be  her  destiny  to  fall  from 
opulence  and  splendor ;  although  the 
time  might  come  when  darkness  should 
settle  on  all  her  hills ;  when  foreign  or 
domestic  violence  should  overturn  her 
altars  and  her  temples ;  when  ignor- 
ance and  despotism  should  fill  the 
places  where  laws  and  arts  and  liberty 
had  flourished ;  when  the  feet  of  bar- 
barism should  trample  on  the  tombs 
of  her  consuls,  and  the  walls  of  her 
Senate-house  and  Forum  echo  only  to 
the  voice  of  savage  triumph." 

In  passages  like  these,  and  through- 
out the  orations  of  Webster,  the  subor- 
dination of  language  to  matter  will  be 
noticed ;  we  have  ever  the  most  impor- 
tant thoughts  and  impressive  utterances 
in  the  plainest  words. 

Mr.  Webster  again  entered  Congress 
in  1823,  sacrificing,  doubtless,  large  pe- 
cuniary returns  from  his  profession  to 
the  service  of  the  State.  His  legal  ar- 
guments were,  however,  only  interrupt- 
ed, not  relinquished ;  he  found  time  to 
debate  in  the  Capitol,  and  plead  in 
the  Supreme  Court,  and  certainly  no 
regret  is  to  be  expressed  that  he  lis- 
tened to  the  counsel  of  friends,  and  the 
more  imperative  call  of  his  own  inter- 
ests to  political  life.  Commanding 
statesmanship  was  his  forte  and  passion, 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


183 


and  Le  lived  and  breathed  fi-eely  in 
tlie  liiglier  atmospliere  of  government. 
Tlie  first  question  wliicli  prominently 
engaged  Lis  attention  in  tlie  House  of 
Representatives  was  the  state  of  Greece, 
then  engaged  in  her  life  struggle  with 
the  Ottoman  power.  The  topic  had 
been  brought  before  Congress  in  the 
messages  of  Monroe,  and  although  lit- 
tle more  was  to  be  done  than  utter  an 
eloquent  expression  of  opinion  on  the 
floor  of  Congress,  that  little,  in  Mr. 
Webster's  utterance,  became  a  voice  of 
prophecy.  His  speech  on  the  Revolu- 
tion in  Greece,  delivered  in  January, 
1824,  was  an  emphatic  declaration  of 
public  law  and  right  between  the  op- 
pressor and  oppressed,  and  its  declara- 
tions at  this  moment,  where  not  over- 
ridden by  insuperable  claims  of  expe- 
diency, are  sanctioned  by  the  practice 
of  the  great  courts  of  Europe.  Free 
governments,  it  is  now  getting  to  be 
understood,  as  the  policy  of  the  great 
Italian  movement  witnesses,  are  the 
guaranties  of  prosperous  international 
intercourse.  Despotism,  and  not  free- 
dom, is  now  understood  to  be  the  dan- 
gerous incendiary  torch,  and  the  prin- 
ciples of  this  decision  will  be  found  in 
the  speech  of  Mr.  Webster. 

The  next  year  gave  him  occasion  for 
another  public  exercise  of  his  oratory, 
in  the  -ceremony  of  laying  the  corner 
stone  of  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument. 
Lafayette  was  present  at  the  delivery 
of  the  address,  and  the  accessories  in 
every  way  were  of  the  most  imposing 
character.  The  orator  again  seized  the 
vital  elements  of  his  subject.  Half  a 
century  had  elapsed  since  the  spot  had 
been  consecrated  by  the  blood  of  its 


defenders.  Mr.  Webster,  after  paying 
due  honor  to  the  militarv  strufo-le 
turned  to  the  peaceful  triumphs  of 
government  and  arts  during  the  period, 
in  conclusion  striking  the  key  note  of 
his  earlier  and  later  efforts  in  his  plea 
for  harmony  and  union.  "  Let  our  con- 
ceptions," said  he,  "  be  enlarged  to  the 
circle  of  our  duties.  Let  us  extend 
our  ideas  over  the  whole  of  the  vast 
field  in  which  we  are  called  to  act. 
Let  our  object  be  our  country,  our 
whole  country,  and  nothing  but  our 
country."  Eighteen  years  afterward, 
on  the  completion  of  the  monument, 
he  was  again  called  upon  as  the  orator 
of  the  day.  He  had  in  the  meantime 
risen  to  the  high  position  of  Secretary 
of  State  ;  years  and  family  changes  had 
made  their  mark  upon  his  life;  but 
they  had  not  abated,  they  had  only  im- 
parted a  deeper  tone  to  his  eloquence. 
His  review  of  the  elements  and  pro- 
gress of  colonial  life  was  worthy  of  the 
master  historian,  and  show  how  well 
he  would  have  succeeded  in  this  mode 
of  composition,  had  he  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  it.  He  had  eminently  an  histo- 
ric mind.  Every  day  events  presented 
themselves  to  him  in  their  causes  and 
consequences  with  a  certain  procession- 
al grandeur.  He  always  looked  to 
moral  influences,  and  here  found  them 
witten  legibly  in  the  material  granite. 
"  We  wish,"  he  said,  in  his  first  oration, 
"  that  this  column,  rising  toward  hea- 
ven among  the  pointed  spires  of  so 
many  temples  dedicated  to  God,  may 
contribute  also  to  produce  :n  all  minds 
a  pious  feeling  of  dependence  and  gra- 
titude. We  wish  that  the  last  object 
to  the  sight  of  him  who  leaves  his  na- 


184 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


tive  shore,  and  tlie  first  to  gladden  his 
wlio  revisits  it,  may  be  something 
which  shall  remind  him  of  the  liberty 
and  the  glory  of  his  country.  Let  it 
rise  !  let  it  rise  till  it  meet  the  sun  in 
his  coming ;  let  the  earliest  light  of  the 
morning  gild  it,  and  parting  day  linger 
and  play  on  its  summit."  In  the  same 
spirit  in  his  second  discourse  he  says : 
"  The  powerful  shaft  stands  motionless 
before  us.  It  is  a  plain  shaft.  It  bears 
no  inscriptions,  fronting  to  the  rising 
sun,  from  which  the  future  antiquary 
shall  wipe  the  dust.  Nor  does  the  ris- 
ing sun  cause  tones  of  music  to  issue 
from  its  summit.  But  at  the  rising  of 
the  sun  and  at  the  setting  of  the  sun, 
in  the  blaze  of  noonday  and  beneath 
the  milder  effulgence  of  lunar  light,  it 
looks,  it  speaks,  it  acts  to  the  full  com- 
prehension of  every  American  mind 
and  the  awakening  of  glowing  enthu- 
siasm in  every  American  heart." 

A  eulogy  on  Adams  and  Jefferson, 
pronounced  in  Faneuil  Hall  in  August, 
1826,  was  the  next  of  those  popular 
discourses  delivered  by  Mr.  Webster, 
ranking  with  his  Plymouth  and  Bun- 
ker Hill  orations.  The  simultaneous 
death  of  these  two  great  fathers  of  the 
state,  on  the  preceding  fourth  of  July, 
had  deeply  affected  the  mind  of  the 
country,  and  expectation  was  fully  alive 
to  the  charmed  words  of  the  orator. 
In  the  course  of  this  address  occurs  the 
description  of  eloquence  often  cited, 
commencing,  "  true  eloquence,  indeed, 
does  not  consist  in  speech,"  and  ending 
with  the  idea  of  Demosthenes,  "  in  ac- 
tion, noble,  sublime,  godlike  action." 
Here,  too,  occurs  the  famous  feigned 
oration  so  familiar  in  the  recitations  of 


schoolboys,  put  into  the  mouth  of  Ad- 
ams— words  wi'itten  with  the  emphasis 
and  felicity  of  Patrick  Henry — "  Sink 
or  swim,  live  or  die,  survive  oi  perish, 
I  give  my  hand  and  my  heart  to  this 
vote.  ...  It  is  my  living  sei.timent, 
and  by  the  blessing  of  God  it  shall  be 
my  dying  sentiment,  Independence  now 
and  Independence  forever." 

Mr.  Webster  had  been  continued,  by 
new  elections,  in  the  House  of  Eepre- 
sentatives — in  some  of  them  his  vote 
was  almost  unanimous — when,  in  1827, 
he  was  elected  to  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States.  It  was  while  on  the 
journey  to  the  Capitol  to  take  his  seat, 
at  the  close  of  the  year,  that  his  wife 
became  so  ill  that  he  was  compelled  to 
leave  her  under  medical  treatment  in 
New  York.  He  speedily  rejoined  her, 
and  in  the  month  of  January  she 
breathed  her  last.  Those  who  knew 
her  well  have  recorded  her  virtues. 
She  was  of  great  amiability.  Judge 
Story  wrote  of  her  "  warm  and  elevat- 
ed affections,  her  constancy,  purity  and 
piety,  her  noble  disinterestedness  and 
excellent  sense,"  while  a  feminine  hand, 
Mrs.  Lee,  has  recalled  similar  traits  of 
character.  At  the  time  of  this  calam- 
ity her  husband  was  forty-six.  He  had 
many  honors  yet  to  reap,  but  youth 
and  early  manhood,  with  their  fresh 
hopes  and  incentives,  did  not  cross  that 
grave.  It  was  not  long  after,  in  the 
spring  of  1829,  that  he  was  called  to 
suffer  another  sorrow  in  the  sudden 
death  of  his  brother  Ezekiel,  who  fell 
in  full  court  at  Concord,  even  while  he 
was  standing  erect,  engaged  in  speak- 
ing — stricken  down  in  an  instant  by 
disease  of  the   heart.     "  Coming  so 


DANIEL  WEBSTER 


185 


soon  after  another  awful  stroke,"  he 
wrote  to  a  friend,  "  it  seems  to  fall 
witli  double  weight.  He  has  been  my 
reliance  through  life,  and  I  have  de- 
rived much  of  its  happiness  from  his 
fraternal  affection." 

His  public  duties  were  before  him, 
and  to  them  he  turned.  In  the  Senate, 
at  the  close  of  this  year,  1829,  com- 
menced that  celebrated  debate  on  Mr. 
Foot's  resolution  on  the  sale  of  the 
public  lands,  which  led  to  the  passage 
at  arms  between  Robert  Y.  Hayne,  the 
senator  fi"om  South  Carolina,  and  Mr. 
Webster,  who  was  looked  up  to  as  the 
clianipion  of  New  England.  The  ques- 
tion involved  a  matter  of  delicacy 
between  the  two  parties  of  the  coun- 
try— Jackson  had  then  recently  ousted 
Adams  in  the  Presidency — in  their  re- 
lations to  the  West.  Mr.  Foot  was 
from  Connecticut,  and  the  supporters 
of  the  Administration  endeavored  to 
set  New  England  in  an  unfriendly  at- 
titude to  the  emigration  to  the  new 
States.  Mr.  Hayne,  a  young  man  of 
brilliant  talents,  rapid  and  effective  in 
onset,  took  paii;  in  the  debate,  and  bore 
with  severity  upon  New  England,  and 
personally  upon  Mr.  Webster.  There 
were  two  speeches  on  each  side  by 
the  rival  orators.  The  second  by  Mr. 
Webster  is  usually  considered  his 
greatest  parliamentary  oration.  There 
were  three  objects,  says  Mr.  Everett, 
to  accomplish  in  this  answer.  Person- 
alities were  to  be  repelled,  the  New 
England  States  vindicated,  and  the 
character  of  the  government  as  a  poli- 
tical system  maintained  against  theories 
of  nullification.  The  speech  w^as  de- 
livered on  the  26th  and  27th  of  Janu- 


ary. As  published  in  the  author's 
works,  it  occupies  seventy -two  large, 
solidly  printed  octavo  pages,  yet  it  is 
said  to  have  been  listened  to  mth  un- 
broken interest.  "  The  variety  of  in- 
cident," we  are  told,  "  and  the  rapid  fluc- 
tuation of  the  passions,  kept  the  audi- 
ence in  continual  expectation  and  cease- 
less as:itation.  There  was  no  chord  of 
the  heart  the  orator  did  not  strike  as 
with  a  master  hand.  The  speech  was 
a  complete  drama  of  comic  and  pathetic 
scenes  ;  one  varied  excitement — laugh- 
ter and  tears  gaining  alternate  vic- 
tory." The  account  is  well  support- 
ed by  intelligent  eye-witnesses,  but 
the  calm,  unimpassioned  reader  must 
not  look  for  all  these  emotions  in 
his  perusal  of  the  printed  pages.  He 
must  remember  how  much  depend- 
ed upon  the  occasion,  the  studiously 
aroused  parliamentary  crisis,  the  rising 
ao;itation  between  the  North  and  the 
South,  and  above  all,  the  personal  em- 
phasis of  the  speakers.  Hayne's  tal- 
ents were  of  no  common  order ;  he 
was  ingenious,  inventive,  full  of  mat- 
ter, copious  in  language,  easy  and  im- 
pressive in  action.  Mr.  Webster, 
though  some  years  his  senior,  was  in 
the  prime  of  life,  with  all  that  interest 
attaching  to  his  appearance,  his  raven 
hair,  dark,  deeply  set  eyes,  olive  com- 
plexion, and  general  force  and  compact- 
ness which  no  physical  weakness  of  his 
later  days  ever  wholly  deprived  him 
of.  Even  his  dress  was  carefully  se- 
lected. He  appeared  in  the  blue  coat 
and  buff  vest,  the  -costume  of  the  Rev- 
olution— an  apparel  often  worn  by  him 
on  subsequent  oratorical  occasions.  He 
stood  forth  as  a  representative  man,  a 


186 


DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


pledged  combatant  in  tlie  arena ;  and 
he  was  every  way  equal  to  tlie  occa- 
sion. Stripped  of  wliat  was  acciden- 
tal, enough  remains  in  his  speech  to 
secure  admiration.  Its  best  remem- 
bered passages  will  always  be  its  enco- 
mium of  Massachusetts,  and  its  closing 
appeal,  as  the  orator  shrinks  from  "  the 
dark  recess,"  and  shudders  at  "  the  pre- 
cipice of  disunion."  Rising  grandly 
to  imagery  truly  Miltonic,  he  exclaimed, 
"  While  the  Union  lasts  we  have  high, 
exciting,  gratifying  prospects  spread 
out  before  us,  for  us  and  our  children. 
Beyond  that  I  seek  not  to  penetrate 
the  veil.  God  grant  that  in  my  day, 
at  least,  that  curtain  may  not  rise ! 
God  grant  that  on  my  vision  never  may 
be  opened  what  lies  behind !  When 
my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold  for 
the  last  time  the  sun  in  heaven,  may  I 
not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and 
dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glori- 
ous Union;  on  States  dissevered,  dis- 
cordant, belligerent ;  on  a  land  rent 
with  civil  feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may 
be,  in  fraternal  blood.  Let  their  last 
feeble  and  lingering  glance  rather  be- 
hold the  gorgeous  ensign  of  the  repub- 
lic, now  known  and  honored  through- 
out the  earth,  still  full  high  advanced, 
its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in 
their  original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased 
or  polluted,  or  a  single  star  obscured, 
bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable 
interrogatory  as  '  What  is  all  this 
worth  V  nor  those  other  words  of  delu- 
sion and  folly,  '  Liberty  first  and  Union 
afterwards  but  everywhere,  spread  all 
over  in  characters  of  living  light,  blaz- 
ing on  all  its  ample  folds,  as  they  float 
over  the  sea  and  over  the  land,  and  in 


every  wind  under  the  whole  heavens 
that  other  sentiment,  dear  to  every  true 
American  heart.  Liberty  and  Union, 
now  and  forever,  one  and  insepar- 
able." 

When  the  progress  of  the  nullifica- 
tion doctrine  in  South  Carolina  brought 
matters  to  a  crisis  with  the  government, 
Mr.  Webster  was  again  called  upon  to 
elucidate  the  constitutional  history  of 
the  country  in  answer  to  the  arguments 
of  Mr.  Calhoun.  It  was  at  the  season 
of  President  Jackson's  Proclamation, 
a  moment  of  intense  public  excite- 
ment. A  second  time  the  New  Eng. 
land  orator  was  placed  in  a  conspicu- 
ous position  to  assert  a  great  national 
principle,  and  how  well  he  maintained 
it  let  the  voice  of  Madison,  the  father 
of  the  Constitution,  answer.  In  ac- 
cepting a  copy  of  the  speech,  the  ven- 
erable sage  wrote  from  Montpellier, 
"  Your  late  very  powerful  speech 
crushed  '  nullification '  and  must  has- 
ten au  abandonment  of  'secession.'" 
This  support  of  the  cause  of  the  Presi- 
dent placed  the  orator  high  in  the  re- 
gards of  the  administration,  and  we 
have  seen  it  intimated  that  overtures 
of  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet  were  made 
him.  There  was  good  reason  for  this 
cordiality  of  feeling  toward  one  who 
supplied  the  argument  by  his  previous 
speeches  for  the  noted  Proclamation ; 
but  the  course  of  Congressional  life 
soon  brought  the  parties  at  variance. 
The  President's  action  towards  the 
Bank  of  the  United  States  called  forth 
various  speeches  from  Mr.  Webster, 
who  stood  opposed  to  what  he  consi- 
dered an  assumption  of  power,  by 
that  high  officer,  not  conferred  by  tlse 


DANIEL  WEBSTER 


187 


Constitution.  The  orator's  arguments 
on  tliis  liead  were  fully  presented  in 
liis  reply  in  tlie  Senate  to  the  Presiden- 
tial '  protest,'  objecting  to  tlie  censure 
wLicli  had  been  passed,  and  fully  set- 
ting forth  the  pretensions  of  the  Gov- 
ernment. As  an  incidental  ornament 
to  his  discourse,  Mr.  Webster  in  this 
speech  introduced  that  allusion  to  Eng- 
land, the  extent  of  her  power  and  au- 
thority, which  has  become  in  all  lati- 
tudes "  familiar  as  a  household  word." 
He  is  urging  the  necessit}^  of  sustain- 
ing a  principle,  and  appeals  to  the 
course  of  our  Revolutionary  fathers. 
"  On  this  question  of  principle,"  said 
he,  "  while  actual  suifering  was  yet  afar 
oif,  they  raised  their  flag  against  a 
power  to  which,  for  purposes  of  foreign 
conquest  and  subjugation,  Rome,  in  the 
height  of  her  glory,  is  not  to  be  com- 
pared ;  a  power  which  has  dotted  over 
the  sm-face  of  the  whole  globe  with 
her  possessions  and  military  posts, 
whose  morning  drum-beat,  following 
the  sun  and  keeping  company  with  the 
hours,  circles  the  earth  with  one  conti- 
nuous and  unbroken  strain  of  the  mar- 
tial ah-s  of  Engla.ad." 

The  next  event  which  calls  for  notice 
in  this  account  of  Mr.  Webster's  career, 
is  his  visit  to  England  in  the  spring  of 
1839.  He  was  not  long  absent,  but 
had  the  best  opportunities  of  observa- 
tion in  the  welcome  he  received  in  the 
highest  quarters.  His  journey  was  ex- 
tenided  to  Scotland  and  France.  He 
wa3  always  fond  of  agriculture,  and 
the  model  farming  of  Great  Britain 
had  much  of  his  attention.  He  spoke 
on  this  subject  at  the  celebration  at 
Oxford. 


On  his  return  he  became  deeply  en- 
gaged in  the  political  campaign  which 
resulted  in  the  election  of  General  Har 
rison  to  the  Presidency  as  the  successor 
of  Van  Buren,  and  in  return  for  his 
services  was  appointed  Secretary  of 
State  in  the  new  administration.  He 
found,  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties 
of  this  office,  many  important  questions 
waiting  for  adjustment,  and  it  was  his 
good  fortune  to  conduct  the  nation 
with  honor  through  the  vexed  bounda- 
ry questions  with  England,  which,  at 
one  time,  seemed  seriously  to  threaten 
hostilities.  There  were  other  matters 
of  weight  with  foreign  nations  which 
he  was  called  upon  to  negotiate,  which 
are  amply  illustrated  in  his  published 
diplomatic  correspondence.  Mr.  Web- 
ster continued  in  office  about  two  years 
under  President  Tyler,  deferring  party 
considerations  to  the  public  welfare  in 
his  negotiations.  When  these  were 
happily  adjusted  he  resigned.  An  in- 
terval of  leisure  from  affairs  of  state 
was  divided  between  his  engagements 
in  the  services  of  his  whig  pai'ty  and 
the  demands  of  his  profession.  In 
1845  he  is  again  in  the  Senate,  and  had 
occasion  to  oppose  the  Mexican  war, 
which  he  disliked  in  its  inception, 
though  he  patriotically  voted  supplies 
to  the  army.  A  journey  to  South  Ca- 
rolina two  years  later,  proved  the  hold 
he  had  upon  the  popular  sympathy  and 
intelligence.  It  was  looked  upon  as  a 
step  to  the  Presidency.  He  had  long 
served  his  party,  and  was  entitled  to 
its  rewards.  Expediency,  however, 
fatal  to  so  many  servants  of  the  public, 
came  in  the  way,  and  General  Taylor, 
the  popular  hero  of  the  war,  was  pre- 


188  DANIEL 

ferred  before  him.  On  the  early  suc- 
cession of  Vice-President  Fillmore  to 
the  office,  Mr.  Webster  again  became 
Secretary  of  State  in  1850,  and  held 
the  position  to  his  death.  A  new  Pre- 
sidential election  afforded  his  party 
one  more  opportunity  of  rewarding 
him  by  a  nomination,  but  it  was  given 
to  General  Scott,  and  the  old  political 
hero,  with  a  sigh  at  the  ingratitude  of 
party,  continued  to  discharge  the  du- 
ties of  his  office  to  the  last.  The  re- 
lease was  not  long  in  coming.  It  came 
to  him  in  the  autumn  of  1852,  at  his 
retirement  at  Marshfield,  where  some 
of  the  happiest  hours  of  his  later  life 
had  been  spent  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
pursuits  of  agriculture,  the  refresh- 
ments of  rural  life,  and  the  intimacy 
of  his  family  and  chosen  friends.  He 
died  on  the  morning  of  Sunday,  the 
24th  October,  1852. 

Of  the  impression  made  upon  the 
whole  community  by  that  event,  it 
will  be  difficult  to  convey  an  adequate 
idea  to  another  generation.  During 
the  later  years  of  his  life,  Mr.  Webster 
was  much  before  the  public.  His 
voice  had  been  heard  in  our  large 
cities,  and  in  many  of  the  rural  parts 
of  the  land,  counselling  in  politics 
and  national  affairs ;  there  was  scarcely 
a  liberal  interest  in  which  he  had  not 
taken  part,  in  local  and  historical 
gatherings,  agricultural  meetings,  open- 
ings of  railroads,  anniversaries  of  his- 
torical societies.  Spite  of  the  subtle 
inroads  of  disease,  age  sat  lightly  upon 
him,  and  the  wear  and  tear  of  three 
score  years  and  upwards  had  not  done 
their  frequent  disheartening  work,  in 
impairing  the  energy  of  his  mind.  Its 


WEBSTER. 

springs  were  as  yet  unbroken ;  assured 
position,  and  the  ease  of  doing  readily 
what  he  had  done  so  often,  perhaps 
gave  greater  pliancy  to  his  movements. 
All  that  he  said  was  uttered  with  point 
and  energy,  and  his  powers  were  with 
him  to  the  end.  He  had  lived  in  the 
company  of  great  thoughts  and  great 
ideas,  and  their  solace  was  not  denied 
him,  when  the  spirit,  on  the  eve  of  its 
parting  flight,  most  needed  refreshment. 
The  first  voice  from  his  dying  chamber 
to  the  public  was  communicated,  in 
terms  singularly  worthy  of  the  occa- 
sion, by  a  friend.  Professor  Felton,  of 
Harvard.  "Solemn  thoughts,"  was  the 
language  of  this  startling  bulletin, 
which  appeared  in  the  "Boston  Cou- 
rier," of  October  20,  only  four  days 
before  the  final  event,  "  exclude  from 
his  mind  the  inferior  topics  of  the  fleet- 
ing hour;  and  the  great  and  awful 
themes  of  the  fnture  now  seemingly 
opening  before  him — themes  to  which 
his  mind  has  always  and  instinctively 
turned  its  profoundest  meditations, 
now  fill  the  hours  won  from  the  weary 
lassitude  of  sickness,  or  from  the  public 
duties,  which  sickness  and  retirement 
cannot  make  him  forget  or  neglect. 
The  eloquent  speculations  of  Cicero  on 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the 
admirable  arguments  against  the  Epi- 
curean philosophy,  put  into  the  mouth 
of  one  of  the  colloquists  in  the  book  of 
Nature  of  the  Gods,  share  his  thoughts 
with  the  sure  testimony  of  the  Word 
of  God."  Many  anecdotes  are  recorded 
of  those  last  hours.  It  is  fondly  remem- 
bered, at  Marshfield,  how  he  caused  his 
favorite  cattle  to  be  driven  by  his  win- 
dow when  too  feeble  to  leave  his  room 


DANIEL  WEBSTER 


189 


— and  amono;  tlie  traditions  of  that 
dying  chamber,  are  treasui-ed  liis  affec- 
tion for  Lis  friend,  Peter  Harvey,  and 
others  -with  liim,  and  the  gentle  conso- 
lation of  some  stanzas,  which  he  had 
recited  to  him  from  that  mournful 
requiem,  the  sad  cadence  of  human  life, 
the  undying  Elegy  of  the  poet  Gray. 
Conscious  to  the  very  end,  he  calmly 
watched  the  process  of  dissolution,  and 
the  last  syllables  he  listened  to  were 
the  sublime  words  of  the  Psalmist, 
"  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no 
evil,  for  thou  art  with  me;  Thy  rod 
and  th}^  staff  they  comfort  me,"  His 
last  words  were,  "  I  still  live."  By  his 
own  directions,  his  remains  were  en- 
tombed by  the  side  of  his  first  wife, 
and  the  children  of  his  early  days,  in 
the  old  family  burying  ground  on  his 
estate,  at  Marshfield.  His  grave  bears 
his  name,  and  the  text  selected  by  him- 
self, "Lord,  1  believe,  help  thou  my 
unbelief." 

"We  should  far  transcend  the  limited 
space  at  our  command,  were  we  to 
attempt  to  notice  the  many  tributes  to 
the  memory  of  Daniel  Webster.  The 
press,  the  pulpit,  the  bar,  colleges, 
senates,  cities,  had  their  commemora- 
tions, and  poured  forth  their  eulogies. 
With  the  exception  of  Washington 
and  Franklin,  more,  perhaps,  of  a  per- 
sonal ch  ii  a  -tir  has  been  written  about 
Webster,  than  of  any  of  our  public 
men.    His  life  had  been  passed  in  the 


eye  of  the  people,  and  a  certain  pub- 
licity naturally  followed  all  that  he 
said  or  did.  In  his  strength  and  in  his 
weakness,  in  all  the  minutiae  of  his 
daily  life,  h?  was  well  known.  All 
men  who  live  much  before  the  public, 
are  necessarily  something  of  actors; 
we  all  act  our  parts ;  he  was  constantly 
presenting  his  best.  There  was  a  cer- 
tain greatness,  as  we  have  remarked, 
natural  to  the  man,  spite  of  his  fail- 
ings. His  ordinary  conversation  had 
an  air  of  grandeur.  His  look  was  full 
of  dignity.  His  plain  speech  in  his 
orations,  in  which  simple  strong  Saxon 
greatly  abounds,  was  an  index  of  his 
matter  and  prevailing  moods.  He 
sought  no  effects  which  did  not  spring 
from  the  truthfulness  of  his  subject. 
Rhetoric  was  his  forte,  but  he  used  it 
sparingly  in  illustration  of  the  sober 
groundwork  of  reason.  In  the  happy 
phrase  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Hillard,  his 
eloquence  was  "the  lightning  of  pas- 
sion running  along  the  iron  links  of 
argument."  The  full  value  and  signifi- 
cance  of  his  political  career,  with  that 
of  his  great  brethren  in  the  Senate, 
remains  yet  to  be  adjusted  in  history, 
but  his  friends  ma}^  fearlessly  leave  the 
apportionment  of  fame  to  posterity. 
But  whatever  the  rank  of  Webster 
may  hereafter  be  with  the  historian, 
the  biographer  will  never  lack  material 
for  a  story  of  elevating  interest  in  the 
narrative  of  his  life,  from  the  cradle  to 
the  grave. 


ri.— 24 


THOMAS  HA 


RT  BENTON. 


Of  the  class  of  working  politicians 
of  tl  e  country,  tlie  many  men  em- 
ployed in  the  organization  of  party 
and  the  practical  business  of  legisla- 
tion, few  have  so  risen  above  the  rank 
of  their  fellows  as  the  late  Senator 
Benton.  It  is  the  fortune  of  these  per- 
sons to  occupy  a  large  share  of  the 
public  attention  without  being  greatly 
distinguished ;  they  are  much  oftener 
seen  and  heard  than  the  limited  set 
of  people  above  them,  the  originators 
of  their  conceptions,  the  Clays,  Cal- 
honns,  Websters,  if  the  country  is 
happy  enough  to  possess  such :  to 
these  fame  is  given,  but  the  others 
must  be  contented  with  gratitude. 
Mr.  Benton  was  through  a  long  career 
a  highly  useful  politician  and  in  many 
things  a  representative ;  but  it  was 
only  in  the  later  portion  of  his  career 
that  the  interest  began  to  attach  to 
him  which  is  centered  upon  a  great 
statesman.  The  illustrious  triumvirate 
whose  names  we  have  mentioned  may 
have  thrown  his  merits  into  the  shade  ; 
but  we  suspect  that  his  worth  grew 
with  time,  and  that  no  man  was  more 
indebted  to  experience.  "  A  progres- 
sive improvement  in  his  oratory,"  says 
a  writer  in  the  opening  number  of  the 
"Democratic  Review,"  in  1837,  "has 
been  very  evident  within  the  last  few 

190 


years,  his  taste  being  purified  from 
some  bad  habits  of  style,  by  which  it 
was  formerly  disfigured.  He  may  be 
said  literally,  according  to  the  well 
known  maxim  of  Cicero,  to  have  made 
himself  an  orator,  having  had  to  strug- 
gle against  the  apparently  natural  dis- 
advantao^e  of  an  incorrect  and  false 
taste.  We  have  heard  the  remark 
made  by  one  of  his  friends,  that  his 
best  speech  will  not  be  delivered  for 
ten  years  yet  to  come."  The  estimate 
was  well  taken,  and  the  prediction,  we 
believe,  was  fulfilled  to  the  letter,  as 
his  speeches  grew  in  force  and  interest 
to  the  last. 

Thomas  Hart  Benton  was  born  in 
the  State  of  North  Carolina,  near  Hills- 
borough, in  Orange  County,  March  14, 
1782.  His  ancestors  are  spoken  of 
with  respect  for  their  services  in  the 
Revolution  when  that  portion  of  the 
country  became  the  theatre  of  war; 
and  the  family  of  his  mother,  who  bore 
the  name  of  Hart,  in  particular  has  the 
distinction  of  taking  part  in  the  first 
venturous  settlement  of  the  region  to 
the  westward,  with  which  the  subject 
of  our  notice  was  to  become  so  promi- 
nently identified.  His  father  died 
when  he  was  eight  years  old,  but  how 
far  his  early  development  was  afi'ected 
by  the  event  we  are  not  informed- 


7  teaciorCbr^ess  /\J}.M6^  ^  JaJvisffnipTy  ^-  tb.  ui  tJie  clcriss  africe  a/'u..-- 


THOMAS   HART  BENTON. 


191 


The  article  in  x\ppleton's  CyelopfBdia, 
wLlcli,  tlioiigli  brief,  is  tlie  fullest  ac- 
coiiut  we  have  met  with  of  the  life  of 
Beuton.  speaks  of  his  education  as  im- 
perfect, while  we  are  told  that  he  was 
for  some  time  at  a  grammar  school,  and 
afterwards  at  the  University  at  Chapel 
Hill.  He  was  not,  however,  a  gradu- 
ate of  the  institution,  in  consequence 
of  the  removal  of  his  mother  to  Ten- 
nessee, to  settle  on  a  tract  of  land  be- 
longing to  his  father's  estate.  In  this 
new  home  he  studied  law,  and  rose 
rapidly  in  the  profession.  He  was 
elected  to  the  legislature,  where  he 
served  only  a  single  term,  during 
which,  continues  our  authority,  "  he 
procured  the  passage  of  a  law  reform- 
ing the  judicial  system,  and  of  another 
giving  to  slaves  the  benefit  of  a  jury 
trial,  the  same  as  white  men." 

At  this  time,  too,  he  became  intimate 
"with  Andrew  Jackson,  who  had  been 
raised  to  the  bench  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  State,  and  was  Major  Ge- 
neral of  the  State  militia.  Benton,  at- 
tracted by  the  bold,  frank,  engaging 
nature  of  the  man,  and  further  secured 
in  his  allegiance  by  various  acts  of  sym- 
pathy and  kindness  on  the  part  of  one 
who  might  well  stand,  in  his  superior 
position,  in  the  rank  of  patron  to  the 
youthful  new-comer  to  the  State,  had 
been  appointed  one  of  his  aids,  and" 
rendered  important  service  to  him  in 
getting  the  Tennessee  volunteers  into 
the  field  at  the  outset  of  the  great 
chieftain's  military  history.  When 
this  force  was  first  organized,  Benton 
was  with  it,  holding  the  rank  of  colo- 
nel, a  designation  by  which  he  was 
subsequently  known  through  the  whole 


course  of  his  public  career.  They  were 
destined  to  be  devoted  friends  in  many 
a  future  arduous  political  struggle  as 
they  had  started  in  life  in  close  inti- 
macy ;  but  this  friendship  was  first  to 
suffer  an  extraordinary  interruption. 
The  "  feud  with  the  Bentons  "  supplies 
the  subject  of  one  of  the  most  striking 
chapters  of  Mr.  Barton's  biography  of 
the  hero  of  New  Orleans  ;  and  to  that 
biography  the  story  of  it  properly  be- 
longs, since  Jackson  was  both  the  ag 
gressor  and  the  chief  sufierer.  It  is 
sufl&cient  here  to  allude  to  it  as  a  brutal 
rencontre,  growing  out  of  a  ridiculous 
duel,  in  which,  while  Benton  was  away 
negotiating  for  the  payment  of  the 
Tennessee  troops  at  Washington,  to 
relieve  his  friend  from  pecuniary  res- 
ponsibility, Jackson  had  borne  the  pari^ 
of  second  to  the  antagonist  of  his  bro- 
ther, Jesse  Benton.  The  case  appears 
to  have  been  exaggerated  and  misrep- 
resented to  Colonel  Benton,  who  re- 
turned to  Nashville  denouncing  his 
former  friend  in  the  bitterest  terms. 
Jackson  was  hurt  and  annoyed,  and 
determined  to  inflict  personal  chastise- 
ment upon  Colonel  Benton, '  and  was 
about  attempting  to  put  his  resolve  in 
execution  in  the  doorway  of  a  hotel  in 
Nashville,  when  his  movements  were 
arrested  by  a  shot  from  Jesse  Benton, 
which  took  effect  in  his  shoulder  and 
prostrated  him  on  the  instant.  Colo- 
nel Benton,  who  had  a  temperament, 
when  roused,  hardly  inferior  to  that  of 
"  Old  Hickory,"  blustered  and  de- 
nounced, and  broke  the  sword  of  his 
antagonist  in  the  public  square.  .The 
bitterest  hate,  not  unnaturally,  sprung 
up    between    the   friends    of  Jack- 


192 


TnOMAb   HART  BENTON. 


son,  who  lay  weltering  in  liis  blood, 
and  tlie  infuriate  young  lawyer.  In  a 
letter  written  by  the  latter,  cited  by 
Mr.  Parton,  he  says,  "  I  am  literally  in 
hell  here  ;  the  meanest  wretches  under 
heaven  to  contend  with — ^liars,  affidavit 
makers  and  shameless  cowards.  .  .  . 
The  scalping-knife  of  Tecumsey  is 
mercy  compared  with  the  affidavits  of 
these  villains.  I  am  in  the  middle  of 
hell,  and  see  no  alleviation  but  to  kill 
or  be  killed ;  for  I  will  not  crouch  to 
Jackson,  and  the  fact  that  I  and  my 
brother  defeated  him  and  his  tribe,  and 
broke  his  small  sword  in  the  public 
square,  will  forever  rankle  in  his  bosom 
and  make  him  thirst  after  vengeance." 
The  two  friends,  thus  summarily  con- 
verted, by  their  reckless  conduct,  into 
the  deadliest  foes,  did  not  meet  again 
for  ten  years,  when  they  found  them- 
selves together,  fellow  members  on  the 
floor  of  the  United  States  Senate. 

Meanwhile  Colonel  Benton,  in  this 
September,  1813,  when  the  unhappy 
scenes  we  have  just  alluded  to  occurred, 
returned  to  his  residence  in  Franklin, 
Tennessee,  to  receive  shortly  after  the 
appointment  of  lieutenant  colonel  in 
the  regular  army.  The  war,  however, 
was  now  approaching  its  end,  and  he 
had  no  opportunity  of  active  service. 
He  consequently,  when  peace  was  de- 
clared, resigned  his  commission,  and 
removing  to  Missouri,  established  him- 
self in  this  seat  of  his  future  political 
authority  at  St.  Louis.  He  engaged  in 
the  practice  of  the  law,  and  an  apti- 
tude for  political  life  introduced  him  to 
the  ^editorship  of  a  newspaper,  the 
"  Missouri  Inquirer."  The  course  of 
politics  in  this  new  occupation  proved 


scarcely  smoother  to  him  than  the 
rough  life  that  he  had  abandoned  in 
Tennessee.  He  eno;a<yed,  we  are  told, 
in  frequent  disputes,  accompanied  by 
various  duels,  in  one  of  which  he  killed 
his  opponent,  Mr.  Lucas,  "  an  event  he 
deeply  deplored,  and  all  the  private 
papers  relating  to  which  he  destroyed." 
It  was  the  period  of  the  memorable 
struggle  for  the  admission  of  Missouri 
into  the  Union,  in  the  discussion  of 
which  he  bore  a  part,  and  as  a  defender 
of  the  Territory,  supported  its  slavery 
constitution.  On  the  conclusion  of  the 
protracted  controversy  he  took  his  seat 
in  the  United  States  Senate  as  one  of 
the  first  representatives  of  the  new 
State. 

Thenceforth  for  thirty  years  he  con- 
tinued to  hold  that  responsible  posi- 
tion, strengthening  himself  yearly  by 
his  studies  and  growing  intimacy  with 
Congressional  life  and  friendships  with 
many  of  the  most  eminent  men  of  the 
country,  till  he  rose  to  be  one  of  the 
most  active  and  influential  members  of 
that  body.  The  record  of  the  period 
which  he  published  in  the  last  year  of 
his  life,  entitled  "  Thirty  Years'  View  ; 
or,  a  History  of  the  Working  of  the 
American  Government  for  Thirty  Years, 
from  1820  to  1850,"  exhibits  his  course 
on  every  leading  political  question 
which  arose  during  that  important  era. 
It  contains  his  speeches — those  which  he 
thought  best  worth  preserving — and 
various  honorable  tributes  to  the  public 
men  with  whom  he  was  associated,  and 
glowing  personal  notices  of  his  friends. 
Nothing  is  more  pleasing  in  these  remi- 
niscences than  his  expressions  of  grati- 
tude to  those  by  whom  he  patterned 


THO^MAS   nART  BENTON. 


193 


himself,  from  wliom  Le  took  coimsel 
find  received  encouragement  at  the  be- 
ginning of  his  career.  In  his  noble 
eulogy  of  Nathaniel  Macon,  of  North 
Carolina,  he  says,  "  I  have  a  pleasure 
in  ■  recallino;  the  recollections  of  this 
"\vise,  just  and  good  man,  and  in  writing 
them  down,  not  without  profit,  I  hope, 
to  rising  generations.  Mr.  Macon  was 
the  real  Cincinnatus  of  America,  the 
pride  and  ornament  of  my  native  State, 
my  hereditary  friend  through  four  gen- 
erations, my  mentor  in  the  first  seven 
years  of  my  senatorial,  and  the  last 
seven  of  his  senatorial  life  ;  and  a  feel- 
ing of  gratitude  and  of  filial  affection 
mingles  itself  with  this  discharge  of 
historical  duty  to  his  memory."  Again, 
writing  of  the  retirement  of  Rufus 
King,  he  says,  "  I  felt  it  to  be  a  privi- 
leo;e  to  serve  in  the  Senate  with  three 
such  senators  as  Mr.  King,  Mr.  Macon, 
and  John  Taylor  of  Carolina,  and  was 
anxious  to  improve  such  an  opportun  ity 
into  the  means  of  benefit  to  myself. 
With  Mr.  King  it  required  a  little  sys- 
tem of  advances  on  my  part,  which  I 
had  time  to  make,  and  which  the  urba- 
nity of  his  manners  rendered  easy.  He 
became  kind  to  me ;  readily  supj^lied 
me  with  information  from  his  own  vast 
stores,  allowed  me  to  consult  him,  and 
assisted  me  in  the  business  of  the  State, 
of  whose  admission  he  had  been  the 
great  opponent,  whenever  I  could  sat- 
isfy him  that  I  was  right,"  More  than 
all  this.  Mentor  counselled  and  Tele- 
machus  took  in  good  part  a  suggestion 
which  might  have  ruffied  a  less  really 
sensible  recipient.  He  advised  him  of 
a  defect  growing  out  of  his  tempera- 
ment when  heated  by  opposition,  of  his 


taking  "  under  these  circumstances  an 
authoritative  manner,  and  a  look  and 
tone  of  defiance,  which  sat  ill  upon  the 
older  members,"  advising  him  "  to  mo- 
derate his  manner."  True  ability  can 
always  be  estimated  by  its  capacity  of 
receiving  instruction,  come  from  what 
quarter  it  may,  and  Benton's  teachable 
disposition  enabled  him  gradually  to 
become  one  of  the  smoothest,  most  ele- 
gant, equable  speakers  in  the  Senate. 

His  course  at  first,  as  indeed  it  was 
the  great  cause  of  his  life  ever  after- 
wards, was  identified  with  the  inter- 
ests of  the  West.  The  reduction  of 
the  price  of  lands  to  emigrants,  the 
preemption  rights  of  actual  settlers, 
the  maintenance  of  the  vast  territorial 
limits,  the  improvement  of  means  of 
conraiunication  to  the  Pacific  were 
favorite  objects  for  which  he  toiled  and 
labored  ;  and,  partaking  as  they  do  of 
living  practical  interests  will  be  remem- 
bered in  his  favor  when  many  of  the 
noisy  debates  of  his  senatorial  career, 
upon  which  the  public  hung  eagerly  at 
the  time,  shall  be  forgotten.  He  tells 
us  that  the  first  seed  of  that  passion 
for  opening  channels  of  trade  across 
the  continent,  and  thence  to  the  great 
Eastern,  marts  of  the  old  world,  to 
which  so  much  of  the  time  of  his  later 
years  was  devoted,  was  sown  in  his 
mind  by  "  the  philosophic  hand  of  Mr. 
Jefferson,"  who,  even  before  Lewis  and 
Clark  had  traversed  the  western  terri- 
tory at  his  instigation,  had  directed 
Ledyard  to  this  promising  scene  of  ex- 
ploration. In  1824  Benton  brought  in  a 
bill  for  opening  a  road  into  New  Mex- 
ico, partly  traced  through  foreign  teiTi- 
toiy,  to  facilitate  the  rising  commerce 


19i 


THOMAS  HART  BENTOK 


with  that  region.  His  lucid  explana- 
tions of  its  value,  assisted  by  prece- 
dents of  the  authoritative  administra- 
tion of  Jefferson,  whom  he  consulted 
on  the  subject  at  Monticello,  secured 
its  passage,  and  the  road,  he  wrote 
thirty  years  afterward,  when  the  politi- 
cal and  commercial  character  of  the 
countiy  in  question  had  undergone 
such  important  changes,  "  has  remained 
a  thorouo-hfare  of  commerce  between 

o 

Missouri  and  New  Mexico,  and  all  the 
western  internal  provinces  ever  since." 
From  that  day  to  the  time  of  his  death 
he  was  active  in  all  that  related  to  new 
channels  of  western  communication ; 
his  exertions  receiving  a  fresh  impulse 
in  the  successive  explorations  and  dis- 
coveries, which  he  greatly  promoted, 
of  his  son-in-law.  Colonel  Fremont. 
His  advocacy  of  a  central  line  of  rail- 
way communication  extending  directly 
westward  from  Missouri  by  the  passes 
surveyed  by  Fremont,  was  plied  not 
only  by  his  writings,  but  by  various 
public  oratorical  statements  in  leading 
Atlantic  cities. 

The  most  important  political  phases 
of  what  we  may  call  the  middle 
career  of  Colonel  Benton's  senato- 
rial life,  that  portion  which  embraces 
the  Presidencies  of  Jackson  and  Van 
Buren,  are  presented  in  connection 
with  questions  of  banking  and  the  cur- 
rency. His  support  of  Jackson  in  his 
warfare  against  the  United  States  Bank 
was  constant  and  unwearied,  and  raised 
him  to  the  rank  of  a  debater  of  the 
first  class.  The  old  "  feud"  which  had 
separated  the  two  men,  violent  as  it 
was,  with  its  horrid  accessories,  was 
felt  to  be  accidental,  and  they  grew  to- 


gether in  a  mutual  respect  and  cordial- 
ity of  feeling,  which  lasted  to  the 
dying  moments  of  the  General  at  tlie 
Hermitage,  and  has  been  fondly  perpe- 
tuated in  the  writings  of  the  survivor. 
One  signal  service,  dear  to  the  heart  of 
the  old  chieftain,  probably  nobody  but 
Benton  would  have  had  the  zeal  and 
perseverance  to  carry  out.  We  allude 
to  the  famous  "  Expunging  Kesolution  " 
passed  in  183Y,  removing  from  the 
record  of  the  Senate  its  resolution  of 

1834,  condemnatory  of  the  President's 
course  on  the  removal  of  the  deposits. 
For  three  years  he  battled  this  question 
in  the  Senate ;  announcing  his  inten- 
tion, at  the  very  outset,  immediately 
on  the  censure  being  taken,  to  remove 
the  hated  sentence  from  the  journal ; 
revivinp;  his  declaration  from  time  to 
time ;  taking  every  opportunity  of  as- 
sailing the  obnoxious  resolve.  Like 
old  Cato,  of  Bome,  who  ended  every 
speech  with  the  expression,  "  I  am  also 
of  opinion  that  Carthage  should  be 
blotted  out,"  Benton  never  forgot  his 
Expunging  Resolution.  He  followed  it 
up  with  every  resource  of  historical, 
parliamentary  and  constitutional  argu- 
ment, and  when  argument  was  at  an 
end,  his  strong  words  of  condemnation 
and  remonstrance  were  never  wanting. 
"  Let  this  resolution  for  the  condemna- 
tion of  General  Jackson,"  said  he  in 

1835,  the  year  after  its  passage,  "be  ex- 
punged from  the  journal  of  the  Senate. 
Let  it  be  effaced,  erased,  blotted  out, 
obliterated  from  the  face  of  that  page 
on  which  it  never  should  have  been 
written.  Would  to  God  it  could  be 
expunged  from  the  page  of  all  history, 
and  from  the  memory  of  all  mankind !" 


THOMAS   HART  BENTON. 


195 


At  leugtli  liis  Lour  of  triumpli  came. 
The  democratic  vote  in  the  Senate  had 
been  increased  by  the  new  elections, 
and  in  the  last  session  of  Jackson's  ad- 
ministration was  sufficiently  strength- 
ened to  carry  the  measure.  The  I'eso- 
lution  of  censure  had  been  originally 
adopted  by  a  vote  of  twenty-six  to 
twenty ;  it  was  cancelled  by  a  vote  of 
twenty-four  to  nineteen.  With  tMs 
majority  at  command,  Benton  proudly 
approached  the  consummation  of  the 
act  upon  which  he  had  set  all  his  pow- 
ers of  mind  and  will.  Rising  from  tech- 
nical Congressional  argument  to  a  vin- 
dication of  the  great  measures  of 
Jackson's  administration,  he  closed 
his  third  great  speech  on  the  subject 
with  the  memorable  sentence  which 
has  passed  into  the  political  vocabu- 
lary— "  And  now,  sir,  I  finish  the  task 
which,  three  years  ago,  I  imposed  on 
myself  Solitary  and  alone,  and  amidst 
the  jeers  and  taunts  of  my  opponents, 
I  put  this  ball  in  motion.  The  people 
have  taken  it  up,  and  rolled  it  forward, 
and  I  am  no  longer  anything  but  a 
unit  in  the  vast  mass  which  now  pro- 
pels it." 

In  his  "Thii-ty  Years'  View,"  Ben- 
ton Ijas  dwelt  upon  "^tlie  closing  act 
which  was  arranged  for  the  sixteenth 
of  January.  His  forces  were  well 
drilled  for  the  final  vote,  and  that  there 
might  be  no  disappointment'  in  their 
meeting  it,  he  caused  unusual  prepara- 
tions to  be  made  for  holding  tke  mem- 
bers together  during  the  protracted 
night  sitting,  for  it  was  intended  that 
tliere  should  be  no  adjournment  after 
the  resolution  was  called  until  it  was 
passed,  and  it  was  known  that  it  would 


not  pass  without  comment  from  the 
great  orators  who  had  always  defended 
the  original  act.  "  Knowing,"  he 
"writes,  "  the  difficulty  of  keeping  men 
steady  to  their  work,  and  in  good  hu- 
mor, when  tired  and  hungry,  the  mover 
of  the  proceeding  took  care  to  provide, 
as  far  as  possible,  against  such  a  state 
of  things ;  and  gave  orders  that  night 
to  have  an  ample  supply  of  cold  hams, 
turkeys,  rounds  of  beef,  pickles,  wines 
and  cups  of  hot  coifee,  ready  in  a  cer- 
tain committee-room  near  the  Senate 
Chamber  by  four  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon." The  debate  was  opened  and 
wore  on  through  the  day  with  long 
speeches  from  the  whigs,  M'ho  were 
bent  on  delay,  with  the  hope  that  in 
some  way  the  measure  would  miscarry. 
Night  came  on,  the  sup2:)er  room  was 
in  operation  witk  its  powerful  rein- 
forcement of  the  animal  spirits  of  the 
combatants,  who  resorted  to  it  in  small 
detachments,  as  they  could  be  spared. 
In  the  words  of  the  arch  conspirator 
himself,  "  it  became  evident  to  the 
great  opposition  leaders  that  the  inevit- 
able hour  had  come :  that  the  damna- 
ble deed  was  to  be  done  that  night, 
and  that  the  dignity  of  silence  was  no 
longer  to  them  a  tenable  position." 

Thus  driven  to  the  wall,  Calhoun  ad- 
vanced and  began  by  denouncing  the 
proposed  measure  as  a  violation  of  the 
Constitution,  which  required  the  jour- 
nals to  be  "  kept,"  and  not  to  be  de- 
stroyed. If  one  sentence,  why  not  the 
whole  ?  He  then  combated  the  act  as 
an  expression  of  the  will  of  the  people, 
referring  it  to  "  a  combination  of  pat- 
ronage and  power."  Finally,  admitting 
the  toils  by  which  he  was  surrounded, 


196 


THOMAS  HART  BENTON. 


he  expressed  his  albhorrence  of  the  dic- 
tation, Avhich  he  compared  with  the 
coercion  of  the  Roman  Senate  in  the 
days  of  imperial  despotism.  Henry 
Clay,  the  mover  of  the  original  reso- 
lution, also  spoke,  ending  with  an 
eloquent  lament  over  the  violated 
ridits  of  the  Senate.  "The  deed," 
said  he,  "  is  to  be  done — that  foul 
deed  which,  like  the  blood-stained 
hands  of  the  guilty  Macbeth,  all 
ocean's  waters  will  never  wash  out." 
"Webster  followed,  as  the  vote  was 
about  being  taken,  more  moderate  in 
language,  but  with  a  lofty  feeling  of 
pride,  if  not  of  contempt,  as  he  con- 
templated what  he  thought  an  idle 
desecration.  "  We  collect  ourselves  to 
look  on,"  he  said,  "  in  silence,  while  a 
scene  is  exhibited  which,  if  we  did  not 
regard  it  as  a  ruthless  violation  of  a 
sacred  instrument,  would  appear  to  us 
to  be  little  elevated  above  the  charac- 
ter of  a  contemptible  farce."  The  vote 
was  then  taken,  the  result  announced, 
and  the  secretary  ordered  to  execute 
its  intent.  He  accordingly  introduced 
tlie  original  manuscript,  and,  agreeably 
to  instructions  which  had  been  arranged 
beforehand,  proceeded  to  surround  the 
sentence  with  a  square  of  black  lines, 
and  to  write  across  its  face  the  words, 
"  Expunged  by  order  of  the  Senate." 
In  the  conclusion  of  the  narrative,  Ben- 
ton takes  some  credit  to  himself  for 
his  firmness  in  checking  "  a  storm  of 
hisses,  groans  and  vociferations,"  which 
arose  over  his  head  in  the  gallery. 

We  have  traced  this  proceeding 
with  some  particularity,  as  well  because 
it  was  one  which,  perhaps  more  than 
any  other,  up  to  that  time,  made  Ben- 


ton widely  known  to  the  public,  as  for 
its  illustration  of  the  inveterate  per- 
sistency of  the  man.  Capable  of  en- 
durance, in  the  enjoyment  of  robust 
health,  and  a  stout  physical  frame,  he 
possessed  a  strength  of  will  which  no 
labor  could  weary  or  force  of  opposi- 
tion overcome.  He  was  a  diligent  stu- 
dent, well  read  in  the  subjects  which 
he  discussed,  and  thoroughly  trained 
as  an  orator  in  their  disposition  and 
use.  His  friendship  for  Jackson  was  a 
passion.  Probably  the  Senate  will 
never  again  witness  such  an  instance 
of  personal  devotion  as  Benton  exhi- 
bited in  the  patient  tenacity  and  con- 
quering fidelity  of  his  Expunging  Re- 
solution. 

The  passage  of  the  bill  for  equaliz- 
ing the  value  of  gold  and  silver,  and 
legalizing  the  tender  of  foreign  coin  of 
both  metals,  which  brought  about  a 
revival  of  the  gold  currency,  was  one 
of  the  measures  connected  with  the 
bank  agitation  which  was  urged  by 
Colonel  Benton  with  his  customary 
research  and  ability  and  a  full  share  of 
his  usual  pertinacity.  His  persistence 
in  the  cry  for  gold  is  still  remembered 
in  the  popular  designation  given  to 
him  of  "Old  Bullion."  In  the. crisis 
which  followed  the  bank  embarrass- 
ments in  1837,  he  shared,  with  Jackson 
and  Van  Buren,  the  popular  compli- 
ments of  the  copper  political  cent  coun 
ters  or  tokens  bearing  such  inscriptions 
as  "I  take  the  responsibility,"  "The 
Constitution  as  I  understand  it,"  "  Ben- 
tonian  currency,"  "  Mint  drop."  The 
Colonel  himself  pleasantly  alludes  to 
some  of  these  demonstrations  in  his 
"  Thirty  Years'  View,  where  he  speaks 


THOMAS   HART  BENTON. 


197 


of  the  matter.  "  Gold,"  lie  says,  as  a 
first  fruit  of  the  bill,  "  began  to  flow 
into  the  country  tlirougli  all  tlie  clian- 
nels  of  commerce :  old  chests  gave  up 
their  hoards  :  the  mint  was  busy,  and 
in  a  few  mouths,  and  as  if  by  magic,  a 
cuiTency  banished  from  the  country  for 
thirty  years  overspread  the  land  and 
gave  joy  and  confidence  to  all  the  pur- 
suits of  industry."  This  was  one  side 
of  the  pictui'e :  on  the  other  was  an 
outcry,  which  he  attributes  to  the  Bank 
influence,  of  ofiicious  persons  alarming 
the  ignorant  with  gilt  counters  and 
counterfeits,  while  the  coin  itself  "  was 
buiiesqued  in  mock  imitations  of  brass 
or  copper,  with  grotesque  figures  and 
ludicrous  inscriptions — the  '  whole 
hog,'  and  the  '  better  currency,'  being 
the  favorite  devices.  Many  newspa- 
pers expended  their  wit  in  its  State 
depreciation.  The  most  exalted  of  the 
paper  money  party  would  recoil  a  step 
when  it  was  ojffered  to  them,  and  beg 
for  paper.  The  name  of  '  gold  hum- 
bug' was  fastened  upon  the  person 
supposed  to  have  been  chiefly  instru- 
mental in  bringing  the  derided  coin 
into  existence ;  and  he,  not  to  be 
abashed,  made  its  eulogy  a  standing 
theme — vaunting  its  excellence,  boast- 
ing its  coming  abundance,  to  spread 
over  the  land,  flow  up  the  Mississippi, 
thence  through  the  interstices  of  the 
long  silken  purse,  and  to  be  lacked  up 
safely  in  the  farmer's  trusty  oaken 
chest."  In  the  last  sentence  the  orator 
repeats  some  of  those  glowing  expres- 
sions which  were  bandied  about  at  the 
time  by  political  editors  with  the  fre- 
quency of  watchwords.  He  was  not 
at  all  the  man  to  be  disheartened  by 
n.— 25 


caricature ;  on  the  contrary,  he  was 
likely  to  accept  it  as  an  indication  of 
popularity  ;  for  no  one  thinks  it  worth 
while  to  travesty  a  thing  in  which  the 
public  takes  no  interest. 

It  would  be  of  little  value  here  to 
attempt  to  trace  minutely  the  future 
political  course  of  Colonel  Benton, 
which  must  be  studied  by  those  who 
would  understand  the  matter,  in  his 
numerous  speeches  and  those  of  his 
contemporaries  in  the  political  history 
of  his  times.  It  may  be  enough  gene- 
rally to  state  that  he  defended  the 
financial  measures  of  Mr.  Van  Buren's 
administration  in  his  advocacy  of  the 
Sub-Treasury ;  that  he  bore  a  distin- 
guished part  in  the  discussion  of  the 
Oregon  boundary  question,  taking  the 
moderate  ground  which  was  finally 
adopted ;  that  he  was  much  looked  to 
by  President  Polk  in  the  conduct  of 
the  Mexican  war,  when  it  was  pro- 
posed to  confer  upon  him  the  rank  of 
lieutenant  general,  that  he  might  have 
control  of  the  entire  military  move- 
ment; and  that  in  the  subsequent 
slaveiy  agitation  he  stood  opposed  to 
the  southern  views  of  Mr',  Calhoun, 
which  were  brought  into  the  politics 
of  his  own  State  of  Missouri.  A  con- 
tested election  in  1850,  in  which  he 
himself  took  the  field  with  his  accus- 
tomed ardor,  delivering  a  series  of 
speeches  which  attracted  great  atten- 
tion by  their  force  and  spirit,  ended  in 
his  defeat  and  withdrawal  from  the 
Senate.  After  two  years'  absence  he 
was  returned  to  Congress  in  1852, 
when  he  again  brought  himself  into 
the  heat  of  the  political  conflict  by  his 
course  on  the  Kansas-Nebraska  biU,  to 


198 


THOMAS  HART  BENTON. 


which,  as  a  maintainer  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise,  he  was  resolutely  opposed. 
It  was  his  fate  in  Missouri  to  be  over- 
thrown by  coalitions.  The  whigs, 
uniting  with  his  enemies,  had  thrown 
him  out  of  the  Senate ;  the  American 
party  now  deprived  him  of  reelection 
in  the  House.  In  1856  he  was  once 
more  a  candidate  for  office  as  governor 
of  Missouri,  and  again  his  presence  was 
felt  throughout  the  State  and  country 
in  his  speeches  in  the  canvass;  but 
party  divisions,  as  before,  told  against 
him,  and  he  was  a  third  time  defeated. 
In  the  Presidential  election  of  the 
same  year  he  exhibited  his  personal 
independence  in  his  adherence  to 
the  fortunes  of  Mr.  Buchanan  in  pre- 
ference to  those  of  his  son-in-law, 
Fremont.  This  rough  spirit  of  inde- 
pendence which  he  exhibited,  gained 
him  the  regard  of  the  community 
outside  the  circle  of  his  own  par- 
tisans, and  it  was  felt  that  few  more 
formidable  political  antagonists  existed 
than  "  Old  Bullion."  He  knew  inti- 
mately all  the  arts  and  devices  of  poli- 
tics, and  the  strength  and  weakness  of 
political  candidates ;  his  memory  was 
extraordinary ;  his  zeal,  when  it  was 
enlisted,  was  unbounded,  and  his  com- 
mand of  language  had  acquired  new 
powers  with  his  years. 

Happily  for  the  permanency  of  his 
reputation  he  devoted  his  last  years  to 
the  work  of  political  history  and  bio- 
graphy. "We  have  already  alluded  to 
his  "  Thirty  Years'  View  "  of  his  sena- 
torial life — a  book  admirably  planned 
to  keep  in  memory  his  long  series  of 
oratorical  labors. 


There  is  certainly  no  modesty  in  the 
book  which  leads  the  author  to  curtail 
the  account  of  his  own  exploits  ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  few  statesmen  have 
ever  so  generously  celebrated  the  merits 
of  their  contemporaries  in  the  same  walk. 
There  is  a  general  ease  and  amenity  in 
its  pages,  the  apparent  indication  of  an 
unruffled  mind.  As  another  example 
of  the  author's  well  known  resolution 
and  perseverance,  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  while  the  second  volume  of  this 
extensive  work  was  in  preparation, 
a  fire  occurred  in  his  house,  and  his 
manuscripts  and  books  perished  in 
the  flames,  when  his  first  act  was  a 
letter  to  his  publishers,  in  which  he 
stated  the  extent  of  his  loss ;  that  his 
labor  would  be  doubled  ;  but  that  he 
would  "  go  to  work  immediately  and 
work  incessantly." 

Not  content  with  this  laborious  un- 
dertaking, he  immediately  entered 
upon  another,  in  his  preparation  of  an 
"Abridgment  of  the  Debates  of  Con- 
gress from  1789  to  1856,"  a  most  im- 
portant aid  to  the  study  of  American 
political  history,  extending  to  fifteen 
royal  octavo  volumes.  He  had  evi- 
dently determined  to  die  in  harness. 
His  last  moments  were  given  to  the 
dictation  of  the  concluding  portions 
of  this  "Abridgment,"  when  he  was 
unable  to  raise  his  voice  above  a  whis- 
per. Disease  had  been  for  some  time 
making  its  advances  upon  his  vigorous 
constitution,  but  leaving  his  mental 
faculties  unimpaired.  He  knew  the  na- 
ture of  the  struggle,  and  manfully  met 
the  issue.  He  died  at  Washington, 
April  10,  1858. 


I 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


James  FEisnovioEE  Cooper  was  born 
at  Em-lington,  New  Jersey,  September 
15,  1T89,  the  descendant,  on  the  father's 
side,  of  an  English  family  which  had 
been  for  more  than  a  hundred  years 
settled  at  that  place.  His  mother,  the 
daughter  of  Eichard  Fenimore,  of  New 
Jersey,  was  of  Swedish  descent.  His 
father,  a  man  of  mark  in  his  generation. 
Judge  William  Cooper,  had  become 
possessed,  a  few  years  before  his  son's 
birth,  of  a  large  tract  of  land  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Otsego  Lake,  in  the 
State  of  New  York,  and  thither,  hav- 
ing established  the  first  settlement  at 
the  spot,  he  carried  the  child  when  he 
was  but  a  few  weeks  old.  The  boy 
was  thus  brought  up  from  his  earliest 
days  amidst  the  scenery  and  surround- 
ed by  the  associations  of  frontier  life. 
The  place  was  well  calculated  to  edu- 
cate the  disposition  of  a  youth  natur- 
ally inclined  to  a  bold,  manly  career. 
"  His  childish  recollections,"  says  his 
accomplished  daughter,  Susan  Feni- 
more Cooper,  in  a  delightful  series  of 
sketches  of  the  author  and  his  works 
recently  published,  "were  all  closely 
connected  with  the  forests  and  hills, 
the  fi^esh  clearings,  new  fields  and 
homes  on  the  banks  of  the  Otsego.  It 
was  here  his  boy's  strength  was  first 
tried  in  those  sports  to  which  grey- 


headed men,  amid  the  cares  of  later 
life,  delight  to  look  back.  From  the 
first  bow  and  arrow,  kite  and  ball,  to 
later  feats  in  fishing,  riding,  shooting, 
skating,  all  were  connected  with  his 
highland  home.  It  was  on  the  waters 
of  the  Otsego  that  he  first  learned  to 
handle  an  oar,  to  trim  a  sail.  Healthy 
and  active,  he  delighted  in  every  exer- 
cise of  the  kind — a  brave,  blithe-heart- 
ed, impetuous,  most  generous  and  up- 
right boy,  as  he  is  remembered  by 
those  who  knew  him  in  childhood." 

This  was  the  out  of  door  life,  and 
doubtless  the  real  education  of  the 
youth,  far  more  potential  in  laying  the 
foundations  of  the  future  man  than 
anything  there  to  be  taught  within- 
doors, if  we  except  the  influence  of 
character  and  domestic  life  in  his  noble 
home.  The  village  schoolmaster,  how- 
ever, plays  his  part  in  the  boy's  history. 
We  hear  of  him,  good  master  Oliver 
Cory — dignifying  the  scene  of  his 
labors  with  the  title  of  an  Academy, 
and  training  his  pupils  in  religion 
as  well  as  in  more  earthly  learning. 
The  school  had  its  exhibitions,  when 
the  orations  of  the  great  men,  out  of 
Shakspeare,  were  declaimed  by  boys 
arrayed  in  "  the  local  militia  uniforms, 
blue  coats  faced  with  red,"  a  costume, 
however,  not  more  ridiculous  than  that 

199 


200 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


of  Garrick  liimself  in  these  persona- 
tions, who  dressed  tlie  parts  in  the  wig 
and  fashion  of  the  time.  On  one  of 
these  occasions  young  Cooper,  a  hoy  of 
eight,  recited  the  Beggar's  Petition  "  in 
the  character  of  an  old  man,  wrapped 
in  a  faded  cloak  and  bending  over  his 
staff." 

Nor  was  the  youth  entirely  without 
a  knack  of  literature.  He  was  fond 
of  the  reading  of  romances,  "  Don  Be- 
lionis  of  Greece  "  among  the  number, 
which  made  so  great  an  impression  on 
him  that  it  led  to  the  project  of  a  work 
of  the  kind,  which  he  was  to  compose 
in  concert  with  a  boyish  comrade,  the 
son  of  the  village  editor.  The  two 
friends  undertook  to  get  the  work  up 
in  the  printing  office,  dictating  to  one 
another  as  it  proceeded.  Of  course  it 
did  not  go  very  far,  A  more  success- 
ful effort  was  a  doggrel  ballad  on  the 
"  Burning  of  Buffalo,"  which  he  penned 
for  a  strolling  singer,  who  carried  it 
about  the  country  with  considerable 
benefit  to  his  humble  fortune. 

From  Master  Cory  the  youth  was 
transferred  to  the  maturer  scholarship 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Ellison,  an  English 
clergyman  of  repute  at  Albany,  who 
received  a  few  pupils  in  his  family,  and 
there  he  was  prepared  for  college.  He 
entered  Yale  at  the  age  of  thirteen, 
shortly  after  the  death  of  his  instructor. 
He  was  in  the  same  class  with  the  poet 
Hillhouse,  and  shared  the  supervision 
of  "the  model  President  Dwight.  Three 
years  passed  at  such  a  seat  of  learning 
must  have  stamped  many  an  image  of 
literature  upon  the  mind  of  an  ingenu' 
ous  youth,  though  it  was  to  be  some 
time  before  the  tree  bore  much  of  this 


species  of  fruit.  His  tastes  and  tempei 
were  for  active  life,  for  following  out 
on  a  larger  sphere  the  inclinations 
which  he  had  acquired  in  the  free 
woodland  life  on  the  Otsego.  The 
navy  was  his  choice,  and,  as  a  prepara- 
tory discipline,  he  left  college  for  a 
brief  apprenticeship  to  the  science  as  a 
sailor  before  the  mast.  A  voyage  to 
England  about  the  year  1805,  and 
thence  to  the  Mediterranean,  introduced 
him  not  only  to  the  hardships  of  the 
sea,  but  to  that  political  world  of  Eu- 
rope and  those  maritime  relations  with 
the  mother  country,  which  were  to  en- 
gage so  much  of  his  attention  in  after 
life.  He  regularly  entered  the  navy 
as  a  midshipman,  and  was  for  several 
years  engaged  in  its  active  duties,  at 
one  time  in  the  sloop  of  war  Wasp, 
and  at  another  in  the  construction  of 
some  vessels  on  Lake  Ontario.  He 
resigned  his  commission  upon  his  mar- 
riage, in  1811,  with  Miss  Susan  De 
Lancey,  a  young  lady  of  one  of  the 
leading  families  in  the  old  settled 
county  of  Westchester,  in  the  State  of 
'New  York.  He  then  established  him- 
self with  his  bride  in  a  cottage  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Mamaroneck,  in  that 
region,  with  a  prospect  before  him  of 
rural  life  and  employments. 

His  first  entrance  upon  his  literary 
career  was  somewhat  accidental.  It 
was  his  habit,  in  the  cultivated  society 
of  his  home,  to  read  aloud  to  his  family 
the  new  books  for  which  America  was 
then  almost  exclusively  indebted  to 
the  London  publishers.  The  works  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  as  they  arrived,  made 
a  great  impression,  which  we  can 
hardly  appreciate  amidst  the  multifa- 


JAMES   FENIMORR  COOPER. 


201 


rious  objects  and  claims  upon  our 
attention  of  the  present  day.  In  the 
cottage  at  Ange^dne,  as  Mr.  Cooper's 
residence  was  called,  in  compliment  to 
the  old  Huguenot  occupants  of  the 
place,  we  may  be  sure  the  Waverley 
series  was  dropped  into  an  appreciative 
circle.  There  was  leisure  for  admira- 
tion and  a  disposition  to  enjoy ;  with 
that  impulse  in  the  chief  reader,  derived 
from  a  keen  perception  of  life,  and  a 
youth  itself  not  unskilled  in  personal 
adventure  and  deeds  of  daring.  The 
influence  of  Scott  on  such  a  mind  must 
have  been  great ;  but  it  was  not  to  the 
author  of  Waverley  that  the  first  im- 
pulse of  Cooper  toward  a  literary  life 
was  directly  due.  Some  less  successful 
writer  set  him  on  the  track.  He  was 
once  reading  a  novel  of  the  old  domes- 
tic school  of  English  life,  when  he 
threw  the  book  down  in  disgust  with 
the  exclamation  that  he  could  wite  a 
better  than  that  himself.  He  was 
challenged  to  the  performance  of  the 
work.  He  sat  down  to  make  the  effort, 
and  the  first  chapters  of  his  novel  of 
"Precaution  "  were  the  result.  He  was 
encouraged  to  continue  it  by  his  friends ; 
it  was  soon  concluded,  and  thus,  at  the 
age  of  thirty-one,  in  1820,  Mr.  Cooper 
became  an  author, 

A  more  unlikely  man  at  that  time  to 
devote  himself  to  the  labors  of  the  pen 
was  not  to  be  found.  "  Hitherto,"  says 
his  daughter,  "  no  man  could  have 
shown  himself  farther  from  any  inclina- 
tion for  authorcraft.  He  was  not  one 
of  those  people  who  like  the  feeling  of 
foolscap,  the  sight  of  pen  and  ink ;  who 
indulge  secret  partialities  for  note- 
books, diaries  and  extracts.    His  port- 


folio was  wholly  empty — scarcely,  in- 
deed, provided  with  letter  paper  for  an 
occasional  correspondent."  So  much 
the  better,  perhaps,  for  the  vividness 
of  his  perceptions  and  the  freshness  of 
his  efforts  when  he  at  once  struck  into 
his  new  path.  He  did  not,  however, 
hit  it  at  once,  though  he  was  not  long 
in  finding  the  true  bent  of  his  genius. 
"  Precaution  "  was  an  imitative  book — 
the  scene  was  laid  in  England  and  the 
incidents  and  manners  were  the  worn 
materials  of  English  fiction.  The  inci- 
dents were  those  of  the  hall  and  the  par- 
sonage; the  whole  was  pronounced 
respectable  but  not  forcible,  and  was 
generally  attributed  to  a  lady's  pen.  It 
had  a  fair  reception,  and  the  honor  of  an 
early  English  reprint.  It  is  still  printed 
in  collections  of  the  author's  works,  but 
would  probably  have  long  since  passed 
into  oblivion  with  the  many  books  of 
its  kind,  had  it  not  been  succeeded  by 
the  vigorous  series  of  volumes  herald- 
ed by  the  "  Spy." 

This  novel,  the  appearance  of  which 
marks  an  era  in  our  American  litera- 
ture was  separated  by  only  a  year 
from  its  predecessor,  "Precaution;"  yet 
what  a  different  work !  How  unlike 
its  eager  activity  and  keen  woodland 
atmosphere  in  the  New  World,  to  the 
faded  dravdng-room  scenes  of  the  Old  ! 
There  was  no  mistaking  this  for  the 
work  of  a  female  hand.  It  was  a  genius 
kindred  to  that  of  Scott,  but  unlike,  as 
was  fitting,  in  its  adaptation  to  new 
scenes  and  situations.  The  author  was 
not  the  man  to  rest  content  with  the 
reputation  of  reproducing  the  materials 
of  English  novel- writing,  however  suc- 
cessful he  might  be  thought  in  the 


202 


JAMES  FENIMORB  COOPER. 


work.  He  turned  to  Lis  own  soil,  to 
tlie  patriotic  legends  of  his  country,  to 
the  impulses  whicli  lie  had  received  by 
her  lakes  and  mountains,  and  from  the 
lips  of  her  aged  patriots.  The  leading 
character  of  the  book,  Harvey  Birch, 
was  suggested  by  a  narrative  which  the 
author  heard  from  Chief  Justice  Jay, 
of  the  Revolution,  sitting  one  summer 
afternoon  on  his  broad  piazza  at  Bed- 
ford, where  Mr.  Cooper  and  his  family 
were  privileged  visitors.  "The  dis- 
course," the  novelist  himself  tells  us, 
"  turned  upon  the  effects  which  great 
political  excitement  produces  on  charac- 
ter, and  the  purifying  consequences  of 
a  love  of  country,  when  that  sentiment 
is  powerfully  and  generally  awakened 
in  a  people."  Out  of  this  sentiment, 
and  the  slight  thread  of  narrative  with 
which  it  was  accompanied,  grew  the 
"  Spy,"  the  prompt,  vigorous  creation 
of  a  man  of  genius,  seeing  with  his  own 
eyes  and  recording  his  own  unborrowed 
impressions.  It  is  a  book  of  action,  of 
ingenious  contrivances,  of  force  and  in- 
tenseness  of  mind,  alive  with  honest, 
natural  emotions,  a  warm  patriotism 
and  a  kindling  love  of  nature.  Its  suc- 
cess was  great  and  immediate,  both  at 
home  and  abroad.  The  friends  of  the 
author  in  New  York  society  were  taken 
by  surprise ;  but  they  soon  learned  to 
recognize  the  man  they  had  among 
them  in  his  new  capacity,  as  book  after 
book  came  forth  to  confirm  the  disco- 
very of  his  powers. 

The  composition  of  the  "  Spy "  was 
something  of  a  curiosity.  "  So  little," 
says  the  writer,  in  the  preface  to  his 
revised  edition,  "  was  expected  from 
the  publication  of  an  original  work  of 


this  description  at  the  time  it  was  writ- 
ten, that  the  first  volume  was  actually 
printed  several  months  before  the  au- 
thor felt  a  sufficient  inducement  to 
write  a  line  of  the  second.  As  that 
second  volume  was  slowly  printing, 
from  a  manuscript  that  was  barely  dry 
when  it  went  into  the  compositors' 
hands,  the  publisher  intimated  that  the 
work  might  grow  to  a  length  that 
would  consume  the  profits.  To  set  his 
mind  at  rest,  the  last  chapter  was  actu- 
ally written,  printed  and  paged  several 
weeks  before  the  chapters  which  pre^ 
cede  it  were  even  thought  of." 

To  the  "Spy,"  in  1823,  succeeded 
the  "  Pioneers,"  in  which  the  author 
drew  upon  the  associations  and  inci- 
dents of  his  early  home  on  the  Otsego. 
The  work  abounds  with  fresh  pictures 
of  nature,  manly,  original  characters, 
and  foremost  among  them  the  universal- 
ly known  Leatherstocking,  that  ideal  sof- 
tened stoic  of  the  woods,  combining  the 
best  instincts  of  his  race  with  a  nobility 
of  character  worthy  the  most  exalted 
lineage.  While  the  events  of  the  story 
are  purely  fictitious,  the  scenery  and 
manners  are  literally  and  truthfully  de- 
scribed, and  many  of  the  personages 
rest  more  or  less  upon  actual  charac- 
ters, while  all  are  true  to  the  preva- 
lent types  of  the  country.  In  his  own 
account  of  the  book  the  author  admits 
Leatherstocking  to  be  a  pure  creation, 
but  claims  for  the  rest  in  general  a 
fidelity  to  actual  life.  "  The  great 
proprietor  resident  on  his  lands,  and 
giving  his  name  to  it  instead  of  receiv- 
ing it  from  his  estates,  as  in  Europe,  is 
common  over  all  New  York.  The  phy- 
sician, with  his  theory  rather  obtained 


JAMES   FENIMORE  COOPER. 


203 


tlian  corrected  by  experinients  on  tLe 
liuman  constitution  ;  tlie  pious,  self-de- 
nying, laborious  and  ill-paid  missionary, 
tlie  half-educated,  litigious,  envious  and 
disreputable  lawyer,  with  his  counter- 
poise a  brother  of  the  profession,  of 
better  origin  and  of  better  character ; 
the  shiftless,  bargaining,  discontented 
seller  of  his  '  betterments ;'  the  plausi- 
ble carpenter,  and  most  of  the  others, 
are  familiar  to  all  who  have  ever  dwelt 
in  a  new  country." 

We  have  alluded  to  the  impulse  of 
the  works  of  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  giv- 
ing direction  to  the  powers  of  Mr. 
Cooper.  His  next  book,  a  pure  novel 
of  the  sea,  in  a  walk  which  he  was 
to  make  entirely  his  own,  singularly 
enough  had  its  motive  in  an  acci- 
dental conversation  at  the  table  of  a 
friend  over  the  last  production  of  the 
author  of  "  Waverley."  The  "  Pirate  " 
had  just  appeared,  and  everybody  was 
talking  of  its  wild,  romantic  scenes  and 
sea  flavors,  breathing  so  freshly  of  the 
northern  coasts  of  Scotland.  Lands- 
men were  so  impressed  with  its  nauti- 
cal display  that  they  doubted  whether 
Scott,  the  gentleman,  who  had  passed 
his  life  in  the  society  of  Edinburgh, 
and  who,  it  was  to  be  supposed,  knew 
no  more  of  the  ocean  than  what  was 
visible  from  the  shore,  could  be  its -au- 
thor. Cooper,  with  his  accustomed 
resoluteness  and  independence  of  tone, 
was  disposed  to  gratify  somewhat  this 
extraordinary  admiration.  His  expe- 
riences in  the  navy  had  made  him  crit- 
ical, and  without  denying  the  general 
force  and  spirit  of  the  picture,  he  pro- 
nounced the  seamanship  of  the  book 
defective.    The  friend  with  whom  the 


conversation  began,  the  late  Mr.  Charles 
Wilkes,  a  gentleman  of  great  worth 
and  eminent  literary  accomplishment, 
the  promoter  of  every  liberal  enter- 
prise in  New  York  in  his  day,  thought 
the  Waverley  treatment  quite  sufiicient. 
The  ardent  temper  of  Cooper,  as  mani- 
fested in  the  production  of  his  first 
novel,  was  put  to  the  proof,  and  he  de- 
termined to  write  a  novel  which  should, 
if  possible,  justify  his  opinions.  He 
resolved  to  produce  a  book  "  which,  if 
it  had  no  other  merit,  might  present 
truer  pictures  of  the  ocean  and  ships 
than  any  that  are  to  be  found  in  the 
'  Pirate.'  "  The  friends  whom  he  con- 
sulted looked  doubtfully  on  the  under- 
taking. "  One  would  declare  that  the 
sea  could  not  be  made  interesting  ;  that 
it  was  tame,  monotonous,  and  without 
any  other  movement  than  unpleasant 
storms,  and  that,  for  his  part,  the  less 
he  got  of  it  the  better.  The  women 
very  generally  protested  that  such  a 
book  would  have  the  odor  of  bilge  wa- 
ter, and  that  it  would  give  them  the 
maladie  de  mer.  Not  a  single  indivi- 
dual among  all  those  who  discussed 
the  merits  of  the  project,  within  the 
range  of  the  author's  knowledge,  either 
spoke  or  looked  encouragingly."  Spite 
of  these  prognostics,  however,  the 
book,  like  its  predecessors,  was  a  decid- 
ed hit.  The  well-chosen  machinery, 
the  introduction  of  an  historical  interest 
in  the  naval  hero  of  the  American  Re- 
volution, Paul  Jones,  and  above  all, 
the  genuine  salt  flavor  of  the  scenes, 
with  heroic  Long  Tom  Coffin  and  his 
associates,  and  the  nautical  accuracy 
with  which  they  were  described,  giving 
confidence  to  readers,  even  where  it 


1 


20-t 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


could  not  be  fully  appreciated,  secured 
the  general  approbation.   "  There  could 
be  no  doubt,"  says  Miss  Cooper,  "  as  to 
its  success.    All  that  interest  which 
the  writer  had  believed  it  possible  to 
throw  round  a  naval  narrative  was 
fully  aroused ;   the  opinion  declared 
some  months  earlier  at  the  table  of  • 
Mr.  Wilkes  was  proved  to  be  correct. 
The  pictures  placed  before  the  reader 
were  drawn  with  so  much  spirit  and 
poetical  feeling,  with  so  much  clearness 
and  fidelity,  as  to  command  attention 
and  fill  the  public  mind  for  the  mo- 
ment.   The  success  of  the  book  in  Eng- 
land  was   also   decided.     Ere  long, 
indeed,  the  tale  was  translated  into 
French  and  German  and  Italian,  in 
spite  of  the  many  technical  difficulties 
of   the   subject — a  most  convincing 
proof  of  the  interest  of  the  work ;  the 
flao-  of  the  little  Ariel  was  carried  tri- 
umphantly  into  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  aye, 
into  the  classic  waters  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean."   The  "  Pilot "  was  published 
at  the  end  of  the  year  1823— the  au- 
thor thus,  in  the  short  space  of  three 
years,  having  given  to  the  world  three 
original  works  of  fiction  in  distinct 
walks  of  composition :  a  romance  of 
the  Kevolution,  the  peculiarly  Ameri- 
can story  of  frontier  settlement,  and 
the  tale  of  the  ocean,  the  precursor  of  a 
long  succession  of  nautical  fictions  from 
his  own  and  other  pens. 

"Lionel  Lincoln,"  Mr.  Cooper's  fourth 
novel,  appeared  in  1825.  In  its  subject 
matter,  a  tale  of  the  leaguer  of  Boston, 
it  belongs  to  the  same  class  as  the 
"  Spy,"  and  was  intended  by  the  author 
as  one  of  a  series  of  novels  of  the  Revo- 
lution, written  to  illustrate  the  history 


of  each  of  the  original  thirteen  States. 
It  has  been  generally  considered  less 
successful  than  some  of  the  author's 
other  productions,  the  interest  of  the 
main  character,  an  American  loyalist 
officer,  not  being  carried  to  a  sufficient 
height ;  but  it  has  scenes  and  charac- 
ters creditable  to  the  writer's  heart  and 
the  boldness  of  his  resolution  in  en- 
countering difficulties.  An  elaborate, 
carefully  prepared  presentation  of  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill  is  one  of  the  per- 
manent attractions  of  the  book. 

A  tour  in  the  summer  of  this  year, 
1825,  gave  birth  to  yet  another  produc- 
tion, the  "  Last  of  the  Mohicans,"  which 
ranks  with  the  foremost  of  the  author's 
works  of  fiction.  Leatherstocking,  in 
this  work,  reappears  upon  the  stage  at 
an  earlier  period  of  his  life,  however, 
than  in  the  "Pioneers;"  and  unlike 
most  reproductions  by  a  novelist  of  a 
favorite  character,  his  second  entrance 
was  as  successful  as  his  first.  The  deli- 
neations of  forest  life  and  the  scenery 
about  Lake  George,  or,  as  the  author 
then  for  the  first  time  called  that  beau- 
tiful body  of  water.  Lake  Horican, 
increased  his  hold  upon  his  readers. 
The  composition  of  the  book  was  inter- 
rupted by  an  attack  of  fever,  at- 
tended with  delii-ium,  but  the  author's 
mind  remained  true  to  his  work. 
In  the  midst  of  his  illness  he  roused 
himsehf  to  dictate  a  sheet  of  seemingly 
incoherent  notes,  which  became  the 
basis  of  one  of  the  most  powerful 
chapters. 

He  had  hardly  recovered  from  this 
illness  when  he  was  engaged  in  the 
composition  of  the  "Prairie,"  urged, 
thus  his  daughter  tells  us,  to  renewed 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


205 


activity  by  tlie  derangement  of  Lis 
financial  affairs,  in  consequence  of  tlie 
unexpected  loss  in  tlie  settlement  of  Lis 
father's  estate,  and  embarrassments 
arising  from  debts  incurred  from  no 
extravagance  of  his  own,  but  from  liis 
benevolence  in  becoming  responsible 
for  the  obligations  of  others.  To  expe- 
dite his  work  he  resorted  to  the  use  of 
coffee  as  a  stimulant,  the  only  instance 
in  which,  in  his  long  literary  career, 
he  employed  any  resoui'ce  of  the  kind. 
"  The  effect  on  his  nerves,"  we  are  told, 
"  was  not  good,  and  the  coffee  was 
given  up  after  a  short  time."  In  fact, 
Mr.  Cooper  was  a  man  of  great  simpli- 
city of  habits,  not  an  ascetic,  indeed, 
but  of  a  healthy,  vigorous  temper,  liv- 
ing much  according  to  the  plain  dic- 
tates of  nature.  There  are  indications 
of  this  honesty  in  his  writings,  which 
bear  no  appearance  of  late  hours  or 
forced  products  of  the  brain.  An  off- 
hand, unsophisticated  character  may  be 
read  in  them  all,  without  vinous  enthu- 
siasm or  affectation  of  any  kind.  Their 
language  is  the  speech  of  a  sincere, 
straightforward  man. 

Before  the  "  Prairie "  was  finished, 
the  author  sailed  with  his  family  for 
Europe,  to  reside  abroad  for  some  years. 
He  left  with  the  plaudits  of  his  coun- 
trymen ringing  in  his  ears,  and'  was 
received  in  Europe  as  an  author  of 
established  reputation,  who  had  honor- 
ably won  a  high  position.  He  took 
up  his  residence  at  Paris,  and  there,  "  in 
the  third  story  of  the  old  Hotel  de  Ju- 
mieges,  in  the  faubourg  St,  Germain,  a 
building  which  is  now  occupied  by  the 
nuns  of  the  adjoining  convent  of  St. 
Maur,"  the  last  chapters  of  the  "  Prairie  " 
n.— 26 


were  written.  Its  successful  descrip- 
tions of  western  scenery  were  penned 
without  visiting  the  regions  where  tlie 
scene  was  laid.  Again  Leatherstocking 
appeared,  now  in  his  last  years,  and 
again  with  the  old  effect,  "  dying  as  he 
had  lived,  a  philosopher  of  the  wilder- 
ness, with  few  of  the  failings,  none  of 
the  vices,  and  all  the  nature  and  truth 
of  his  position."  The  new  work  did  not 
lack  its  admirers.  One  of  the  noblest 
eulogies  pronounced  upon  it  is  by  the  au- 
thor's friend,  Mr.  Bryant,  the  poet,  whose 
sympathies  were  all  with  its  theme.  "  I 
read  it,"  says  he,  "  with  a  certain  awe, 
an  undefined  sense  of  sublimity  such  as 
one  experiences  on  entering  for  the 
first  time  upon  those  immense  grassy 
deserts  from  which  the  work  takes  its 
name.  The  squatter  and  his  family — 
that  brawny  old  man  and  his  large- 
limbed  sons,  living  in  a  sort  of  primi- 
tive and  patriarchal  barbarism,  sluggish 
on  ordinary  occasions,  but  terrible 
when  roused,  like  the  hurricane  that 
sweeps  the  grand  but  monotonous  wil- 
derness in  which  they  dwell — seem  a 
natural  growth  of  those  ancient  fields 
of  the  West,  Leatherstocking,  a  hun- 
ter in  the  "  Pioneers,"  a  warrior  in  the 
"  Last  of  the  Mohicans,"  and  now,  in 
his  extreme  old  age,  a  trapper  on  the 
prairie,  declined  in  strength  but  unde- 
cayed  in  intellect,  and  looking  to  the 
near  close  of  his  life,  and  a  grave  under 
the  long  grass,  as  calmly  as  the  laborer 
at  sunset  looks  to  his  evening  slumber, 
is  no  less  in  harmony  with  the  silent 
desert  in  which  he  wanders.  Equally 
so  are  the  Indians,  still  his  companions, 
copies  of  the  American  savage  some- 
what idealized,  but  not  the  less  a  part 


206 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


of  the  wild  nature  in  wliicli  they  have 
their  haunts." 

Mr.  Cooper's  second  sea  novel,  the 
"  Ked  Rover,"  succeeded  the  "  Prairie." 
It  was  written  in  the  summer  of  1827, 
at  a  delightful  suburban  residence,  oc- 
cupied with  his  family  by  the  author 
at  the  village  of  St.  Ouen,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Paris,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Seine — a  choice  spot,  in  happy  contrast, 
with  its  simple  rural  pursuits  and 
amusements,  to  the  wild  waste  of  wa- 
ters on  which  the  author  now  sent  forth 
his  imagination  in  the  construction  of 
a  tale  of  rare  power  and  beauty.  The 
"  Red  Rover "  is  a  bold  conception 
of  character,  involving  sudden  vicissi- 
tudes of  action,  and  for  breadth  and 
effect,  and  interest  in  its  personages, 
ranks  with  the  happiest  of  the  writer's 
creations.  "  It  is  as  completely  a  book 
of  the  sea,"  says  the  filial  pen  which  we 
have  already  cited,  "  as  the  '  Mohicans ' 
is  a  tale  of  the  forest.  The  whole  dra- 
ma is  almost  entii'ely  enacted  on  the 
ocean.  The  curtain  rises  in  port ;  but 
the  varied  scenes,  so  full  of  nautical  in- 
terest and  succeeding  each  other  with 
startling  rapidity,  are  wholly  unfolded 
on  the  bosom  of  the  deep.  It  is  be- 
lieved that  there  is  scarcely  another 
book  in  English  literature  so  essentially 
marine  in  spirit.  It  is  like  some  mate- 
rial picture  of  the  sea,  drawn  by  a  mas- 
ter hand,  where  the  eye  looks  abroad 
over  the  rolling  waves,  where  it  glances 
at  the  sea-bird  fluttering  amid  the 
spray,  and  then  rests  upon  the  gallant 
ship,  with  swelling  canvas,  bending 
before  the  breeze,  until  the  land  behind 
us,  and  the  soil  beneath  our  own  feet 
are  forgotten.    In  the  "Rover,"  the 


different  views  of  the  ocean  in  majestic 
movement  are  very  noble,  while  the 
two  vessels  which  carry  the  heart  of 
the  narrative  with  them,  come  and  go 
with  wonderful  power  and  grace,  guid- 
ed by  the  hand  of  one  who  was  both 
pilot  and  poet  in  his  nature." 

Before  the  publication  of  his  next 
novel,  Mr.  Cooper  gave  to  the  world  a 
didactic  work  of  a  patriotic  character, 
intended  to  represent  to  his  new  Euro- 
pean audience  the  working  of  Ameri- 
can institutions  at  home ;  for  it  was  a 
characteristic  of  the  novelist  to  be 
always  actively  employed  with  what 
was  around  him.  He  was  not  a  self- 
pleasing  man,  satisfied  with  the  dreams 
of  his  study  or  the  creations  of  his 
imagination,  but  a  man  among  men,  of 
earnest,  practical  utilities.  It  was  this 
sense  of  life,  indeed,  which  gave  force 
and  reality  to  his  mental  creations. 
The  book  in  which  he  embodied  his 
views  was  entitled,  "  Notions  of  the 
Americans,  by  a  travelling  Bachelor," 
the  first  of  several  in  which  the  living 
contemporary  manners  of  his  country- 
men are  topics  of  discussion.  It  was 
in  reference  to  this  work  that  the  lines 
of  the  poet  Halleck  were  written,  in 
the  opening  of  his  poem  "  Red  J acket :" 

"Cooper,  whose  name  is  with  his  oonntry's  woven, 
First  in  her  files,  her  Pioneer  of  mind — 
A  wanderer  now  in  other  climes,  has  proven 
His  love  for  the  young  land  he  lefb  behind ; 

"And  throned  her  in  the  senate-hall  of  nations, 
Eobed  like  the  deluge  rainbow,  heaven-wrought; 
Magnificent  as  his  own  mind's  creations. 

And  beautiful  as  its  green  world  of  thought ; 

"And  faithful  to  the  Act  of  Congress  quoted 
As  law  authority,  it  passed  nem.  con.; 
He  writes  that  we  are,  as  ourselves  have  voted. 
The  most  enlightened  people  ever  known. 


JAMES  FENIMOUE  COOPER. 


207 


"That  all  our  week  is  happy  as  a  Sunday 

In  Paris,  full  of  song,  and  dance,  and  laugh  ; 
And  that,  from  Orleans  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy, 
There's  not  a  bailiff  or  an  epitapli. 

"And  furthermore,  in  fifty  years,  or  sooner. 
We  shall  export  our  poetry  and  wine ; 
And  our  brave  fleet,  eight  frigates  and  a  schooner. 
Will  sweep  the  seas  from  Zembla  to  the  Line." 

From  France  Mr.  Cooper  passed  to 
Switzerland,  where  lie  resided  during 
the  summer  of  1828,  at  Berne,  at  a 
country-house  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
city,  and  as  the  winter  approached 
crossed  the  Alps,  and  made  his  home 
for  a  time  at  Florence ;  for  in  these 
migrations  he  literally  carried  his  home 
with  him,  establishing  himself  in  quar- 
ters of  his  own,  and,  while  fully  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  resources  of  the 
country,  preserving  at  the  same  time 
his  old  domestic  habits.  His  family 
grew  up  around  him  under  his  own 
roof,  and  the  labors  of  his  pen  were 
pursued  at  leisure.  In  the  Casa  Rica- 
soli,  at  Florence,  which  he  made  the 
seat  of  a  generous  hospitality,  Mr. 
Cooper  wrote  his  novel,  the  "  Wept  of 
Wish-ton- wish,"  which  he  had  planned 
in  Switzerland,  a  tale  of  old  Connecti- 
cut Puritan  life,  of  a  capture  by  the 
Indians,  the  fate  of  the  white  maiden, 
adopted  into  the  tribe,  the  story  of  her 
parents'  deprivation,  and  of  the  return 
of  the  daughter,  an  Indian  wife  and 
mother,  to  her  long  lost  civilized  home. 
The  incidents  were  well  suited  to  the 
author's  powers,  which  were  always 
happily  employed  in  Indian  adventure 
and  the  portrayal  of  the  natural  affec- 
tions. 

From  Florence  the  novelist  migrated 
by  way  of  Leghorn,  in  a  coasting  voy- 


age, to  Naples.  Establishing  himself 
again  for  the  summer,  in  a  most  pictu- 
resquely situated  habitation  at  Sorren- 
to, commanding  a  most  extensive  view 
of  a  region  of  undying  classical  interest. 
The  house  which  he  occupied  had  the 
traditional  reputation  of  having  been 
occupied  by  the  poet  Tasso.  There,  in 
the  study  and  enjoyment  of  the  sea 
and  land  beneath  his  eye,  the  greater 
portion  of  the  "  Water  Witch "  was 
written,  the  scene  being  laid  "  in  Ame- 
rican waters,  on  the  shores  of  Staten 
Island,  while  the  time  chosen  was  the 
period  shortly  after  the  English  had 
taken  possession  of  New  Amsterdam — 
the  Dutch  element  of  the  colony  figur- 
ing largely  in  the  book."  There  was 
some  difficulty  about  printing  the  booh 
at  Rome,  whither  the  author  removed 
at  the  setting  in  of  winter,  and  he  was 
compelled  to  adjourn  this  advantage, 
preparatory  to  sending  copies  to  Eng- 
land, France  and  America,  till  his  arri- 
val the  next  season  at  Dresden. 

At  Rome  Mr.  Cooper  mingled  with 
the  better  society  always  to  be  found 
there,  and  employed  himself  in  a  liberal 
study  of  the  antiquities  of  the  place. 
He  passed  thence  to  Venice  by  the 
States  of  the  Church,  and  from  Venice 
to  Grermany,  returning  to  Paris  in  time 
to  witness  the  stirring  scenes  of  the 
Revolution  of  1830,  which  placed 
Louis  Philippe  on  the  throne.  He  was 
in  conference  with  Lafayette  at  this 
crisis,  and  proposed  to  him  a  plan  of 
government,  in  the  establishment  of 
Henry  V.,  which  would  have  combined 
royal  authority  with  popular  constitu- 
tional securities.  He  was  also  engaged 
in  the  defence  of  his  country  from  a 


208 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


charge  made  in  the  "Kevue  Britan- 
nique,"  that  the  government  of  the 
United  States  was  one  of  the  most  ex- 
pensive in  existence.    This  led  to  some 
controversy,  which  was  not  suffered 
materially  to  divert  the  mind  of  the 
author  fi'om  his  more  regular  pursuit 
of  novel- writing.    The  "  Bravo,"  a  tale 
of  Venice,  was  given  to  the  world  in 
1831,  and  received  with  various  degrees 
of  favor.    It  is  certainly  creditable  to 
the  writer's  talent  for  romance  writing, 
that  he  was  charged  with  having  imi- 
tated a  popular  work  of  Monk  Lewis 
in  this  production,  when  he  had  never 
read  the  book  which  it  was  said  he 
had  copied.    His  next  novel  was  the 
"  Heidenmauer,"  which,  like  the  "  Bra- 
vo," had  a  political  design.    It  was 
speedily  followed  by  the  "  Headsman," 
the  scene  of  which  was  laid  in  Switzer- 
land, the  result  of  a  second  visit  to  that 
country  in  the  summer  of  1832.  Not 
long  after  this,  in  1833,  the  author  re- 
turned to  America  after  a  residence 
abroad  of  seven  years,  the  incidents  of 
which  he  afterwards  made  his  country- 
men familiar  with  in  a  series  of  delight- 
ful books  of  travel,  abounding  with 
vivid  descriptions  of  men  and  things, 
shrewd  observation  and  ingenious  re- 
flection, entitled,  "  Sketches  of  Switzer- 
land,"  and   "  Gleanings    in  Europe, 
France  and  Italy." 

On  his  arrival  in  America,  Mr.  Coo- 
per, who  was  naturally  a  resolute  dis- 
putant, fell  into  a  controversial  vein 
which  for  a  time  interfered  with  that 
enjoyment  of  his  writings  which  the 
hearts  of  his  countrymen  were  always 
ready  to  accord.  At  this  time  of  day 
it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  dwell  upon 


these  passages,  though  they  engrossed 
too  large  a  part  of  the  author's  atten- 
tion, and  entered  too  deeply  into  his 
writings  to  be  ignored  in  his  biogra- 
phy.   In  his  once  famous  "  Letter  to 
his  Countrymen,"  published  soon  after 
his  return,  he  replied  with  some  acri- 
mony to  the  newspaper  attacks  upon 
his  reputation,  always,  perhaps,  an  im- 
politic course,  and  in  his  case  to  be  sin- 
cerely lamented,  for  it  was  felt  to  be  a 
great  mind  giving  importance  to  little 
things.    The  spirit  of  controversy,  too, 
got  into  his  works  of  the  imagination, 
and  his  next  three  novels,  the  "  Moni- 
kins,"  and  "  Homeward  Bound,"  and 
"  Home  as  Found,"  published  between 
the  years  1835  and  1838,  were  strongly 
tinctured  with  this  argumentative  sati- 
rical humor.    Its  exercise  exposed  him 
to  much  censure  at  the  time,  but  it  is 
generally  conceded  that  his  course  was 
an  independent  one,  and  that  he  had 
at  heart  the  good  of  his  countrymen. 
It  led  him,  however,  into  a  protracted 
conflict  with  the  journals,  ending  in  a 
series  of  libel  suits  instituted  by  him 
against  the   defamatory  newspapers, 
which  he  conducted  with  great  energy, 
and  in  which,  we  believe,  he  was  uni- 
formly victorious. 

In  the  midst  of  these  altercations, 
which  undoubtedly  for  awhile  obscured 
the  just  literary  fame  of  the  author, 
Mr.  Cooper  came  before  the  public  with 
his  "  Naval  History  of  the  United 
States."  It  was  published  in  1839,  was 
well  received,  and  remains  a  standard 
work  in  the  American  library.  The 
author's  practice  in  narrative  gave  him 
a  ffreat  advantag-e  in  the  vivid  recital 
of  naval  actions,  while  his  punctilio 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


209 


and  exactness  in  all  matters  relating  to 
tlie  order  and  discipline  of  the  service 
imparted  to  tlie  work  its  critical  cha- 
racter. An  important  addition  to  this 
work  was  published  by  him  some 
years  later,  in  his  series  of  "Lives  of 
distino-iiished  Naval  Officers."  There 
is  an  unpretending,  manly  tone  in  all 
these  productions  which  is  very  hap- 
pily in  accordance  with  the  spirit  and 
requisitions  of  the  subject.  No  warmer 
appreciator  of  the  essential  traits  of 
American  character  in  its  better  deve- 
lopments ever  lived  than  Mr.  Cooper. 
He  was  eminently  fitted  for  the  work 
of  biography  and  history,  and  had  he 
devoted  himself  more  particularly  to 
these  departments  would  no  doubt 
have  achieved  a  reputation  hardly  infe- 
rior to  that  which  he  secui'ed  in  his 
special  field. 

From  these  somewhat  distracting 
pursuits,  the  novelist,  who  had  now  es- 
tablished his  home  at  Cooperstown,  at 
the  old  hall  built  by  his  father  on  the 
Otsego  Lake,  returned  to  his  early  suc- 
cesses in  fiction  in  the  production  of  a 
novel,  the  "  Pathfinder,"  built  up  on 
the  associations  of  the  favorite  "  Last 
of  the  Mohicans."  Reminiscences  of 
his  adventures  as  a  midshipman  on  the 
shores  of  Lake  Ontario  were  blended 
with  his  inventions,  and  the  whole 
proved  a  most  harmonious,  pleasing 
picture  of  forest  life — an  impression 
upon  the  public  mind  which  after  the 
appearance  of  an  intermediate  novel, 
"Mercedes  of  Castile,"  was  seconded 
by  another  work,  which  appeared 
shortly  after,  not  a  whit  inferior,  the 
"  Deerslayer."  The  chivalric  Indian  of 
the  old  Leatherstocking  type  appears 


in  these  works  surrounded  by  groups 
of  characters  naturally  drawn,  with  a 
chastened  enthusiasm,  particularly  in 
the  female  personages,  which,  as  usual 
with  the  author's  delineations  of  the 
sex  were  models  of  delicacy  and  purity. 
The  scene  of  "  Deerslayer  "  was  laid  on 
the  Otsego  Lake,  at  an  early  period, 
when  the  land  was  as  yet  clothed  with 
its  primeval  woods.  "  Deerslayer  "  re- 
presents the  youth  of  the  chivalrous 
Indian  hero  who  figures  in  so  many  of 
the  author's  novels.  It  was  the  last  book 
in  which  he  was  introduced,  but  the 
first,  in  the  order  of  his  history,  to  be 
read  in  following  his  fortunes. 

Mr.  Cooper,  having  now  reestab- 
lished his  fame  by  two  productions  of 
imposing  merit  in  the  old  field  of  In- 
dian adventure  on  land  in  this  second 
or  after-period  of  his  literary  career, 
turned  his  attention  with  like  success 
to  his  other  domain  of  the  sea.  The 
"  Two  Admirals,"  and  "  Wing  and 
Wing,"  assured  the  public  of  his  una- 
bated powers  in  this  direction  also. 
Other  works  rapidly  followed,  tales  of 
land  and  ocean — "  Wyandotte,  or  the 
Hutted  Knoll ;"  "  Afloat  and  Ashore," 
and  its  sequel,  "Miles  Wallingford;" 
"  The  Crater,  or,  Vulcan's  Peak  ;"  "  Oak 
Openings,  or,  the  Bee-hunter ;"  "  Jack 
Tier,  or,  the  Florida  Reef;"  "  The  Sea 
Lions,  or,  the  Lost  Sealers" — carrying 
us  to  icy,  Antarctic  regions  ;  a  distinct 
series,  bearing  the  names,  "  Satanstoe," 
"The  Chain-bearer,"  and  "The  Red- 
skins," written  with  a  political  purpose 
in  illustration  of  and  opposition  to  the 
New  York  anti-rent  doctrines  of  the 
day,  and  last  of  the  extended  proces- 
sion of  novels,  "  The  Ways  of  the 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


Hour,"  wbicli  had  also  a  social  and 
political  bearing. 

The  work  last  mentioned  appeared 
in  1850,  in  tlie  author's  sixty-first  year, 
and  he  was  yet  planning  new  achieve- 
ments in  literature.    His  failing  health, 
however,  began  to  warn   his  friends 
that  the  end  was  approaching,  though 
it  was  difiicult  to  bring  home  the  idea 
of  any  interruption  of  that  vigorous, 
manly  career  which  had  kept  on  so 
bravely  in  its  long  work  of  profit  and 
instruction.    Even  while  he  was  dying, 
part  of  the  manuscript  of  an  unfinished 
book  from  his  pen,  a  social  history  of 
"The  Towns  of  Manhattan,"  illustrative 
of  his  favorite  Westchester  County  and 
its  family  histories,  was  in  the  printer's 
hands.-  But  the  inexorable  messenger 
who  interrupts  all  earthly  labor  sus- 
pended the  work  in  its  progress,  and  the 
author  was  summoned  from  his  books, 
and  family,  and  friends.  The  immediate 
cause  of  his  death  was  a  dropsical  affec- 
tion.   He  expired  on  the  eve  of  his 
sixty-second  birthday,  at  his  family  seat 
at  Cooperstown,  September  14,  1851. 

He  was  a  man  of  a  warm-hearted, 
generous  nature,  robust  and  stalwart, 
mentally  and  physically ;  of  a  healthy 
temperament,  seeing  the  world  through 


no  ideal  medium,  sensitive  in  his  per- 
ceptions, hardy  and  resolute  in  his  re- 
solves.   He  had  something  more  than 
most  men  of  the  combative  in  his  dispo- 
sition, but  it  did  not  impair  the  integ- 
rity of  his  motives,  the  worth  of  his 
friendship,  or  the  purity  of  his  patriot- 
ism.   In  literature  his  character  was  of 
eminent  service  to  his  country,  which 
needed  such  a  guide,  and  such  a  cham- 
pion of  her  claims  to  originality.  No 
one  has  done  more  for  the  fame  of  the 
nation,  especially  on  the  continent  of 
Europe,  than  James  Fenimore  Cooper. 
His  works  have  been  translated  and 
read  in  well-nigh  all  living  languages, 
and  have  created  an  interest  in  the 
country  in  the  minds  of  those  who 
could  not  be  readily  approached  by 
any  other  means\    To  his  own  people 
he  has  left  not  only  the  ever  attractive 
series  of  his  works,  but  the  not  less 
valuable  example  of  his  earnest,  manly 
character.    His  eulogy  has  been  admir- 
ably pronounced  by  Bryant ;  the  inci- 
dents of  his  life  yet  waiting  a  matured 
biography,  have  been  affectionately  set 
forth  by  his  daughter — and  the  conge- 
nial pencil  of  the  artist  Darley  has  fol- 
lowed with  loving  devotion  and  kin- 
dred power,  the  creations  of  his  genius. 


Finm  /fir  unijr/u/J //i/7/i/.r//ij  I'ly  /hu/'/.>el.  /n  die-  p(>s^-6^5i,o/u  o/  '  /Jw  pu/jhskas 

.Iuh-iinmi.l''i7  '&,  Co.PiililiBhKra'JSIewYis'k 


1^ 


to* 


1 


WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


The  Virginia  Harrison  family,  of 
wliich  tlie  President  of  the  United 
States  was  descended,  is  traced  to  a 
colonial  ancestor  in  tlie  middle  of  tlie 
seventeentli  century.  A  son  of  this 
early  inhabitant  gave  birth  to  Benja- 
min Harrison,  who  established  the  line 
at  the  family  seat  at  Berkeley,  Charles 
City  County,  on  James  River.  He  was 
a  lawyer,  speaker  of  the  House  of 
Burgesses,  and  much  esteemed  in  the 
colony,  where  he  exercised  a  liberal 
influence  by  his  viii;ues  and  hospitali- 
ty. His  grandson  of  the  same  name 
was  the  signer  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  and  father  of  the  Presi- 
dent. 

The  family  had  always  taken  an 
active  part  in  public  alfairs,  propor- 
tioned to  its  growing  wealth  and  im- 
portance, and  the  young  Benjamin, 
who  was  early  left  to  the  care  of  the 
estate,  was  not  disposed  to  avoid  this 
responsibility.  He  took  his  seat  in  the 
House  of  Burgesses,  before  he  reached 
the  legal  age,  and  became  at  once 
marked  out  by  his  firmness  and  ability 
as  a  political  leader.  He  was  one  of 
the  committee  appointed  in  1764  to 
prepare  an  address  to  the  king,  and 
memorials  to  parliament  on  the  resolu- 
tions of  the  House  of  Commons,  prepa- 
ratory to  the  Stamp  Act.    When  the 


first  independent  convention  of  dele- 
gates met  at  Williamsburgh,  ten  years 
afterward,  when  the  mismanagement 
of  parliament  had  ripened  the  country 
for  revolt,  he  was  sent  a  member  of  the 
first  Continental  Congress,  which  met 
in  Philadelphia.  He  was  also  a  mem- 
ber of  the  second  Virginia  assembly  of 
delegates  at  Richmond  in  1115,  which 
took  the  active  measures  placing  the 
county  in  a  state  of  self-defence  and 
resistance.  He  at  first  regarded  these 
steps  as  premature,  but  speedily  acqui- 
esced in  the  vote  of  the  House.  He 
was  again  returned  to  the  second  and 
more  important  General  Congress  at 
Philadelphia.  An  anecdote  is  related 
of  him  at  this  time  in  connection  with 
John  Hancock.  When  the  spirited 
Boston  leader  showed  some  reluctance 
or  diffidence  in  accepting  the  Presi- 
dency on  the  retirement  of  Peyton 
Randolph,  Harrison,  who  was  standing 
by  him,  is  said  to  have  seized  him 
in  his  arms  and  placed  him  bodily 
in  the  chair,  with  the  exclamation, 
"We  will  show  Mother  Britain  how 
little  we  care  for  her,  by  making  a 
Massachusetts  man  our  president,  whom 
she  has  excluded  from  pardon  by  a 
public  proclamation."  ^    Another  story 

'  Life  of  Harrison.  Sanderson's  Biography  of  the 
Signers. 

211 


212 


WILLiAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


is  narrated  involving  a  similar  allusion 
to  liis  powerful  figure,  in  his  remark  to 
Elbridge  Gerry,  his  very  opposite,  in  a 
slender,  spare  person,  at  the  signing  of 
the  Declaration.  "  When  the  hanging 
scene  comes  to  be  exhibited,"  said  Har- 
rison, as  he  raised  his  pen  from  the 
instrument,  "  I  shall  have  all  the  ad- 
vantage over  you.  It  will  be  over 
with  me  in  a  minute,  but  you  will  be 
kicking  in  the  air  half  an  hour  after  I 
am  gone."  Anecdotes  like  these,  of 
such  a  man,  show  no  levity  of  disposi- 
tion in  conflict  with  the  'serious  duties 
in  which  he  was  employed,  but  they 
do  show  an  animation  and  good  heart 
in  the  cause  which  needed  every  sup- 
port of  physical  temperament  as  well 
as  mental  resolve.  Our  fathers  fought 
with  cheerfulness  as  well  as  resolution. 

Harrison  continued  in  Congress  ac- 
tively employed  in  its  various  employ- 
ments till  the  close  of  1*7 Y7,  when  he 
only  transferred  his  political  duties  to 
his  native  State.  He  was  speaker  of 
the  House  of  Burgesses  till  1*782,  in- 
cluding the  disastrous  period  of  the 
invasion  of  Virginia,  and  was  then 
twice  elected  governor.  He  was  again 
called  from  private  life  to  sit  in  the 
State  Convention,  of  the  Constitution, 
to  which  he  gave  his  influential  sup- 
port, and  was  more  or  less  engaged  in 
public  life  to  his  death,  in  1*791. 

William  Henry  Harrison  was  his 
third  son.  He  was  born  at  Berkeley, 
the  family  residence,  February  9, 1*7*73  ; 
so  that  he  came  into  the  field  of  active 
life  with  the  new  generation  which 
succeeded  the  Kevolutionary  era.  His 
education  was  well  provided  for  under 
the  care  of  the  family  friend,  the  finan- 


cier Robert  Morris,  and  at  Hampden 
Sidney  College  in  Virginia,  whence  he 
turned  to  the  study  of  medicine.  He 
had  acquired  some  knowledge  of  the 
profession  in  the  office  of  a  physician 
of  Richmond,  and  was  about  to  pursue 
his  studies  with  the  celebrated  Doctor 
Rush,  at  Philadelphia,  when  his  father's 
death  occurred,  and,  with  some  reluc- 
tance on  the  part  of  his  family,  he 
chose  for  himself  a  military  life.  He 
was  aided  by  General  Henry  Lee  in 
obtaining  a  commission  as  ensign  in 
the  1st  regiment  of  United  States  in- 
fantry, and  as  the  government  had 
then  an  Indian  war  on  its  hands  in  the 
Western  Territory,  he  at  once,  at  the 
age  of  nineteen,  found  himself  engaged 
in  active  service.  Passing  but  a  few 
days  in  Philadelphia,  he  hastened  to 
his  regiment,  stationed  at  fort  Wash- 
ington, the  site  of  the  present  Cincin- 
nati, where  he  joined  the  remains  of  the 
broken  forces  of  St.  Clair,  just  escaped 
from  the  disastrous  engagement  at  the 
Miami  villages.  It  was  thus  that  he 
was  introduced  to  a  region  with  which 
he  became  thoroughly  identified,  and 
his  popularity  in  which,  long  after  the 
scenes  of  war  were  over,  carried  him 
triumphantly  into  the  Presidential 
chair. 

The  ill  fortune  which  had  befallen 
St.  Clair  was  calculated  to  rouse  the 
warlike  spirit  of  the  generous  youth ; 
and  it  had  its  lesson  of  caution  and 
preparation  in  dealing  with  the  In- 
dians, which  was  not  lost  upon  subse- 
quent campaigns.  When  Major-Gene- 
ral  Wayne  took  the  field,  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1*793,  Harrison,  now  holding 
the  rank  of  lieutenant  in  his  regiment, 


WILLIAM   nENRY  HARRISON. 


213 


was  appointed  his  aid.  In  tlie  brilliant 
engagement  at  tlie  Kapids  of  the  Miami, 
he  distinguished  himself  by  his  valor, 
and  secured  from  "Wayne  special  men- 
tion in  his  dispatch  of  the  victory,  as 
"  one  who  rendered  the  most  essential 
service,  by  communicating  my  orders 
in  every  direction,  and  by  his  conduct 
and  bravery  exciting  the  troops  to 
press  for  victory."  The  battle  on  the 
Miamis  was  fought  August  20,  IV 94, 
and  a  year  afterward,  with  various  in- 
termediate demonstrations  and  negoti- 
ations brought  forth  its  peaceable 
fruits  in  Wayne's  treaty  of  Greenville, 
which  closed  the  war. 

Harrison  was  then,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-three,  with  the  rank  of  Captain, 
placed  in  command  of  Fort  Washing- 
ton, where  he  about  the  same  time  was 
married  to  the  daughter  of  John  Cleves 
Symmes,  whose  name  is  so  honorably 
distinguished  in  the  history  of  the 
western  settlements,  and  particularly 
as  the  founder  of  Cincinnati.  The 
young  officer  held  this  post  till  1797, 
when  he  sent  in  his  resignation,  with 
the  intention  thereafter,  says  his  bio- 
grapher, Montgomery,  "  of  devoting  his 
time  to  the  peaceful  and  more  conge- 
nial pursuits  of  agriculture."  He  was 
speedily,  however,  withdrawn  from 
these  quiet  anticipations  to  public  du- 
ties, in  his  appointment  by  President 
Adams  as  secretary  of  the  Northwest 
Territory,  then  under  the  government 
of  St.  Clair.  When  the  Territory  be- 
came organized,  and  was  qualified  to 
send  a  delegate  to  Congress,  Harrison 
was  chosen  its  first  representative  in 
1799.  He  distinguished  himself  in  this 
body  l:»y  his  activity  and  success  in  secur- 
n— 27 


ing  to  settlers  the  privilege  of  purchas- 
ing the  public  lands  in  small  quantities, 
and  in  measures  favoring  their  preemp- 
tion rights  and  modes  of  payment. 

On  the  division  of  the  Territory, 
Harrison  was  withdrawn   from  Con- 
gress to  discharge  the  duties  of  the  first 
governor  of  the  newly  formed  Territory 
of  Indiana,  which  included  the  present 
States  of  Indiana,  Illinois,  Michigan, 
and  Wisconsin.    This  was  in  1801,  and 
the  whole  region   now  so  populous 
numbered  only  five  thousand  people, 
scattered  over  the  whole  country,  ex- 
posed to  the  dangers  of  frontier  life 
and  the  unsettled  relations  with  the 
Indians.    "  With  such  difficulties,"  says 
his  biographer,  "  it  -was  no  less  a  mat- 
ter of  duty  than  of  necessity  that  he 
should  be  clothed  with  the  amplest 
independent  powers.    Amongst  those 
of  a  civil  as  well  as  political  nature 
conferred  upon  him  were  those  jointly 
with  those  of  the  judges,  of  the  legisla- 
tive functions  of  the  Territory,  the  ap- 
pointment of  all  the  civil  officers  within 
the  Territory,  and  all  the  military  offi- 
cers of  a  grade  inferior  in  rank  to  that 
of  general;  commander-in-chief  of  the 
militia ;  the  absolute  and  uncontrolled 
power  of  pardoning  all  offences;  sole 
commissioner  of  treaties  with  the  In- 
dians with  unlimited  powers,  and  the 
power  of  confemng,  at  his  option,  all 
grants  of  lands."    Harrison  held  this 
proconsular  office  for  sixteen  years,  dur- 
ing which  he  saw  the  country  steadily 
increasing  in  strength  and  prosperity ; 
though  his  career,  experienced  and  pru- 
dent as  it  was,  proved  not  without  dif- 
ficulties with  the  Indians,  rising  at 
length  to  open  warfare. 


2U 


WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


The  struggle,  known  as  the  battle  of 
Tippecanoe,  which  took  place  on  the 
seventh  of  November,  1811,  involved 
various  elements  of  preparation  on  the 
part  of  the  savages,  some  of  which  im- 
part to  their  conduct  of  the  war  an  inte- 
rest with  which  there  will  always  be  a 
certain  degree  of  sympathy.    The  effort 
of  a  falling  race  to  regain  its  authority 
under  a  leader  like  Tecumseh,  assisted 
by  the  fanaticism  of  his  brother  the 
Prophet,  is  raised  out  of  the  rank  of  the 
ordinary  Indian  fighting,  propensities. 
The  Indian  chief  was  a  hero  of  no  ordi- 
nary class.    To  the  virtues  of  the  war- 
rior in  arms,  he  united  many  of  those 
moral  qualities  so  powerful  in  strength- 
ening the  courage  of  the  soldier.  He 
was  self-denying,  forbearing,  and  even 
compassionate.    Born  in  the  centre  of 
Ohio,  he  represented  the  races  immedi- 
ately west  of  the  AUeghanies,  whom 
he  appears  early  to  have  sought  to 
unite  against  the  whites.  Consistently 
with  his  character  for  sincerity  he  de- 
clined to  attend  Wayne's  council  of 
peace  at  Greenville.    His  great  effort 
was  to  bring  the  scattered  tribes  to  act 
in  concert.    For  this  purpose  he  estab- 
lished, in  1808,  an  Indian  settlement  at 
the  Tippecanoe  Eiver,  a  tributary  of  the 
Wabash,  in  Indiana,  whither,  with  the 
aid  of  the  Prophet,  he  brought  together 
a  considerable  number  of  recruits  to 
his  mingled  political  and  superstitious 
teaching. 

The  "Wabash  Prophet,"  as  he  was 
called,  was  at  first  considered  a  simple 
visionary.  Jefferson,  then  in  the  Presi- 
dency, took  this  view  of  him,  and  thought 
little  harm  would  come  of  his  preaching 
the  simple  austerities  of  their  forefathers 


to  a  race  not  remarkably  disposed  to  ab- 
stinence and  selfdenial.     His  success, 
however,  and  the  activity  and  declara- 
tions of  Tecumseh,  with  the  imminent 
English  war  at  hand,  aroused  the  anxie- 
ties of  the  people  of  the  Territory,  and 
when  positive  ground  was  taken  by  the 
Indian  leader  at  the  conference  of  Vin- 
cennes  against  the  progress  of  the  treat- 
ies by  which  Harrison  was  extending 
the  authority  of  the  whites,  it  was 
found  necessary  to  assume  a  decided  mi- 
litary stand.    The  governor  therefore  at 
length,  in  October,  1811,  advanced  his 
forces,  composed  of  regulars  and  militia, 
officered  by  experienced  western  leaders, 
toward  the  Indian  settlement  presided 
over  by  the  prophet  on  the  Tippecanoe. 
Moving  forward  cautiously  with  a  force 
of  nine  hundred  men,  lie  reached  a  sta- 
tion about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the 
town,  where  a  military  encampment  was 
formed,  when  some  conferences  were 
commenced  with  the  foe.    It  Avas  evi- 
dent that  the  purposes  of  the  Prophet 
were  hostile.    Harrison  arranged  his 
men  in  order  to  receive  the  assault, 
which  was  made  by  the  Indians  early  on 
the  morning  of  the  seventh  of  Novem- 
ber.    It  was.  in  fact  a  night  attack, 
though  commenced  after  four  o'clock,  a 
drizzling  rain,  and  the  season  of  the  year 
favoring  the  darkness.    The  onset  was 
made  with  vigor,  on  all  sides  of  the 
encampment,  which  was  gallantly  de- 
fended, with  considerable  loss  of  life  by 
the  rifle  companies  at  their  several  sta- 
tions.   The  camp  was  thus  resolutely 
held,  and  kept  unbroken,  till  daybreak, 
when  new  military  dispositions  were 
made,  and  a  charge  at  the  point  of  the 
I  bayonet,  put  the  Indians  to  the  rout. 


WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


"  Witli  tliis  success,"  says  Mr.  Dawson, 
in  his  account  of  tlie  battle/  "  tlie  engage- 
ment was  ended ;  botli  parties  appeared 
to  have  satisfied  the  expectations  of 
their  friends.  The  steady,  undeviating 
courage  of  the  American  troops  elicited 
great  commendation ;  while  Governor 
Harrison,  speaking  of  his  savage  ene- 
my, says  '  the  Indians  manifested  a 
ferocity  uncommon  even  with  them.' 
In  this,  however,  they  were  inspirited 
by  the  religious  fanaticism  under  which 
they  acted — the  Prophet,  during  the 
action,  being  posted  on  a  neighboring 
eminence,  singing  a  Avar-song;  and  in 
faint  imitation  of  Moses  in  the  wilder- 
ness, directing  his  people  by  the  move- 
ments of  his  rod."  The  forces  engaged 
in  this  battle  were  probably  about 
equal.  The  Americans  lost  some  sixty 
officers  and  men  killed,  or  who  died  of 
their  wounds,  beside  the  wounded  sur- 
vivors, and  the  Indian  loss  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  greater. 

The  attack  upon  the  American  camp 
was  urged  and  directed  in  the  absence 
of  Tecumseh,  by  the  Prophet,  who 
promised  in  virtue  of  his  soothsaying 
insight,  an  easy  victory.  The  result 
was  that  he  altogether  lost  credit  with 
the  tribes  whom  he  had  inveigled  to 
his  town  by  his  necromantic  appeals. 
When  the  battle  was  fought,  Tecumseh 
was  on  a  journey  to  the  Southern  In- 
dians, whom  he  was  stirring  up  to  his 
warlike  enterprises.  He  reached  the 
Wabash  on  his  return  in  time  to  wit- 
ness the  first  effects  of  the  discomfiture 
of  his  followers,  and  it  is  said,  so  great 
was  his  indignation  toward  his  brother. 


'  Battles  of  the  United  States,  II.  73-81, 


215 

the  Prophet,  that  on  his  attempting  to 
palliate  his  fool-hardy  conduct,  he  seized 
him  by  the  hair  and  threatened  his  life. 
The  disaster  had  broken  up  his  long 
entertained  hope  of  an  Indian  confede- 
racy against  the  white  man.  The  game,  • 
however,  was  not  quite  up  yet.  The 
desperation  of  the  Indians  was  taken 
advantage  of  by  the  British  authorities 
on  the  frontier,  to  engage  them  in  the 
war  with  America.  In  May,  1812,  Te- 
cumseh openly  joined  the  British  stand- 
ard at  Maiden.  On  the  eighteenth  of 
the  following  month  war  against  Great 
Britain  was  formally  declared  by  Con- 
gress. 

The  campaign  of  Hull  in  Canada, 
opened  with  brilliant  promise  in  his  in- 
vasion of  the  country,  speedily  to  be 
checked  by  his  inefficiency  and  to  ter- 
minate in  his  ignominious  surrender  of 
Detroit.  This  disaster,  of  a  sufficiently 
afflictive  character,  so  far  however,  from 
intimidating  the  western  defenders, 
called  them  to  new  exertions,  and  vo- 
lunteer forces  were  raised  in  large  num- 
bers in  Ohio  and  Kentucky.  There 
was  at  first  some  conflict  of  authority 
as  to  the  command  of  the  troops  of  the 
latter  State,  which,  for  the  purpose  of 
placing  Harrison  at  their  head,  con- 
ferred upon  him  the  brevet  commission 
of  Major-General,  while  the  Secretary 
of  War,'  ignorant  of  this  movement, 
assigned  the  command  to  General  Win- 
chester. The  difficulty,  however,  was 
speedily  solved  by  the  appointment  of 
General  Harrison  by  the  President,  in 
September,  commander-in-chief  of  the 
Western  Department,  when  the  left 
wing  of  the  army  was  assigned  to  Gene- 
ral Winchester.    Harrison  himself  took 


WILLIAM  REN 


RY  HARRISOK 


liis  position  in  what  tlie  British  con- 
quests, had  now  made  the  frontier,  the 
northerly  portion  of  Ohio  bordering  on 
Michigan,  and  made  his  headquarters 
at  Upper  Sandusky. 

The  new  year  1813,  opened  with  a 
movement  on  the  part  of  Winchester, 
now  established  at  the  rapids  of  the 
Maumee  to  protect  the  outlying  settle- 
ments in  Michigan  on  the  Raisin  River, 
a  territory  virtually  in  possession  of 
the  British.  For  this  purpose  Colonel 
Lewis  was  dispatched  with  a  force  over 
the  frozen  waters  of  the  adjacent  por- 
tion of  Lake  Erie  to  Frenchtown,  from 
which  the  enemy  were  driven  with 
great  gallantry.  This  action  occurred 
on  the  eighteenth  of  January.  On  the 
twenty-second,  the  victors  in  the  mean- 
time having  been  joined  by  Winchester 
with  a  small  body  of  troops,  an  attack 
was  made  upon  the  American  position 
by  Colonel  Proctor,  who  had  issued 
forth  from  the  neighboring  Maiden, 
only  eighteen  miles  distant,  with  a  con- 
siderable party  of  royal  troops,  several 
pieces  of  artillery,  and  a  formidable 
band  of  six  hundred  Indians.  The 
camp  was  taken  unprepared ;  such  re- 
sistance as  could  be  offered  at  the  mo- 
ment was  made,  but  the  American 
defeat  was  complete.  Such  was  the 
cruelty  of  the  Indian  allies  and  the 
merciless  conduct  of  the  British  com- 
mander, that  the  action,  an  indelible 
disgrace  to  the  British  arms,  passes 
in  history  as  the  massacre  at  the  River 
Raisin.  Both  the  officers,  Lewis  and 
Winchester  were  captured;  of  about 
a  thousand  American  troops  engaged, 
but  thirty-three  escaped,  nearly  four 
hundred  were  killed  or  missing,  and 


the  rest  taken  prisoners.  General  Har- 
rison, though  he  disapproved  of  the 
more  than  questionable  attempt  at  hold- 
ing a  position  like  Frenchtown  in  the 
face  of  the  superior  foe,  did  all  that  he 
could  to  save  the  fortunes  of  the  army 
by  hastening  thither  with  recruits ;  but 
the  action  was  fought  and  the  disaster 
completed  before  he  reached  the  scene. 
All  further  onward  movements  were  of 
course,  for  the  time,  unavailing,  and 
the  commander-in-chief  intrenched  his 
forces  at  the  Rapids  of  the  Maumee, 
constructing  there  a  fort,  named  in 
honor  of  Governor  Meigs,  of  Ohio. 

The  next  important  event  of  the  war 
in  this  quarter  was  the  attack  on  this 
fort  in  the  spring,  by  a  force  led  by 
General  Proctor,  of  over  two  thousand 
men,  more  than  one  half  of  whom  were 
Indians,  and  of  the  rest  above  five  hun- 
dred were  regulars.  He  made  good  his 
landing  on  the  river  two  miles  below 
the  fort ;  but  he  had  this  time  a  more 
diligent  commander  than  Winchester  to 
encounter.  Harrison,  who  anticipated 
an  attack,  had  hastened  from  a  recruit- 
ing mission  to  Cincinnati,  to  superintend 
the  defence.  The  fort  was  defended  by 
its  elevated  position  and  the  usual  pro- 
tection of  works  of  that  kind,  of  pick- 
ets and  block  houses.  As  a  further 
protection  against  the  pieces  of  artillery 
which  the  besiegers  were  bringing  to 
bear  upon  it,  a  heavy  embankment  was 
carried  across  the  works  which  sheltered 
the  troops  from  the  enemy's  fire.  The 
batteries  of  the  assailants  were  opened 
on  the  first  of  May,  and  continued  with 
energy  for  four  days  with  little  effect, 
when  the  arrival  in  the  vicinity  of  Ken- 
tucky reinforcements   under  General 


WILLIAM   IIENIIV  IIAIIKISON. 


217 


Cla}-,  wliicli  Harrison  had  originally 
sent  for,  gave  tlie  commander  tlie  oppor- 
tunity to  plan  a  concerted  attack  upon 
tlie  besiegers.  It  was  made  by  a  sally 
from  the  fort  and  two  divisions  of 
Clay's  troops  at  different  points  with 
various  success ;  but  the  result  was  the 
virtual  discomfiture  or  defeat  of  the 
British.  The  fighting  of  that  fifth  of 
May,  proved  the  superiority  of  the  Ame- 
ricans and  a  few  days  after  the  seige  was 
abandoned. 

We  here  meet  again  with  the  Indian 
leader,  Tecumseh,  who  proved  himself  a 
skillful  combatant  in  the  day's  work, 
and  who,  we  may  mention,  had  exhibited 
his  prowess  in  the  campaign  in  Michi- 
gan at  the  expense  of  a  detachment  of 
Hull's  command  previous  to  his  sur- 
render. A  story  of  this  chieftain's  in- 
terposition in  saving  some  of  the  pri- 
soners taken  by  the  British  in  this  action 
before  Fort  Meigs,  is  creditable  to  his 
humanity,  while  the  necessity  for  such 
interposition  adds  another  item  to  the 
fearful  account  against  Proctor  for  his 
treachery  and  cruelty  at  the  River  Eais- 
in.  While  a  dispute  was  raging  be- 
tween the  Potawatamies  and  the  more 
merciful  Miamis  and  Wyandots,  as  to 
the  fate  of  the  captives,  the  work  of 
scalping  and  slaughter  having  been  al- 
ready wreaked  on  some  twenty  defence- 
less victims,  Tecumseh  came  upon  the 
spot  flourishing  his  hatchet,  and  it  is 
said  burying  it  in  the  head  of  a  chief  en- 
gaged in  the  bloody  work,  commanded 
them,  for  shame  to  desist.  "  It  is  a  dis- 
grace," said  he,  "to  kill  a  defenceless 
prisoner:"  and  his  order  was  obeyed.-^ 

'  Dawson's  Seige  of  Fort  Meigs.  Battles  of  the  United 
States. 


The  loss  of  the  Americans  in  the  seige 
and  the  action  was  greater  than  that  of 
the  British;  but  we  are  to  consider  in 
the  number  of  the  slain  those  perfidi- 
ously murdered  by  the  savage  allies  or" 
the  enemy.  Proctor,  at  any  rate,  was 
unable  to  stand  before  the  American 
forces  now  thickening  around  him. 

Thus  relieved  of  the  presence  of  the 
enemy,  General  Harrison  waited  the 
effects  of  Perry's  movements  on  the 
lake  below.  Once  in  command  of  Lake 
Erie,  the  British  occupation  of  Michigan 
he  felt  would  now  be  abandoned.  The 
interim  between  this  time  and  Perry's 
victory  which  opened  the  way  to  the  ex- 
pected conquests  was  honorably  marked 
by  Major  Croghan's  gallant  defence  of 
Fort  Stephenson,  against  another  attack 
of  Proctor.  That  action  was  fought  on 
the  first  of  August;  on  the  tenth  of 
September,  Perry  defeated  and  captured 
the  whole  British  squadron.  Harrison 
who  had  been  impatiently  waiting  this 
result,  now  rapidly  matured  his  meas- 
ures for  the  reconquest  of  the  country 
overrun  by  the  British.  Employing  the 
smaller  vessels  taken  from  the  enemy 
to  transport  a  portion  of  his  forces,  now 
powerfully  recruited  by  the  Kentucky 
volunteers,  Harrison  effected  a  landing 
on  the  Canadian  shore,  on  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  the  month,  and  advancing 
to  Maiden,  found  it  abandoned  by  the 
British  and  its  fort  and  storehouses  de- 
stroyed. Proctor,  with  all  his  royal 
forces  accompanied  by  Tecumseh  with 
his  Indians,  had  retreated  within  the 
peninsula  along  the  line  of  the  Thames, 
which  empties  into  Lake  St.  Clair. 
General  Harrison,,  leaving  detachments 
of  his  force  at  Sandwich  and  Detroit, 


218 


WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


now  regained,  pushed  on  witli  a  com- 
pany of  about  a  hundred  and  forty  re- 
gulars, Colonel  Richard  M.  Johnson's 
mounted  Kentuckians,  and  Governor 
k'lhelLy's  volunteers,  also  Kentuckians, 
after  the  retreating  foe.  Lewis  Cass 
and  Commodore  Perry  were  with  him 
as  volunteer  aids.  The  whole  force 
amounted  to  about  three  thousand  five 
hundred  men.  For  some  distance  along 
the  river  the  troops  were  accom])anied 
by  the  smaller  vessels  of  the  fleet. 

The  progress  of  the  'Americans  along 
the  route  was  of  the  most  exciting 
character  as  they  drove  in  the  enemy 
from  the  defence  of  the  bridges  which 
lay  in  their  way.  On  the  fifth  of  Octo- 
ber they  came  up  with  the  British  forces 
of  Proctor  drawn  up  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Moravian  town.  He  had  some  eight 
hundred  regular  troops  and  about  two 
thousand  Indians.  They  were  posted 
in  front  of  the  road  and  in  an  open 
wood  flanked  by  the  river  on  one  hand 
and  a  swamp  on  the  other.  The  Indians 
adjoined  the  swamp  on  the  enemy's 
right.  The  attack  was  made  on  the 
front  by  the  mounted  Kentuckians, 
■v^^hose  charge  at  once  threw  that  portion 
of  the  foe  into  utter  confusion,  driv- 
ing through  their  ranks  and  assailing 
them  from  the  rear.  Colonel  Johnson, 
meanwhile,  was  engaged  in  a  stubborn 
conflict  with  the  Indians,  who,  directed 
by  the  skill  of  Tecumseh,  reserved  their 
fire  to  tell  with  deadly  effect  upon 
the  advancing  column.  Johnson  was 
wounded,  but  his  Kentuckians  were  not 
to  be  dismayed.  Dismounting  from 
their  horses  they  plied  their  rifles  with 
great  effect  against  the  Indians  who 
stood  their  ground  well,  but  being  un- 


supported by  their  British  employers, 
were  soon  compelled  to  retreat.  Proc- 
tor himself  had  already  taken  to  flight. 
Tecumseh  was  slain  in  the  battle,  the 
most  illustrious  victim  of  the  day.  The 
number  of  chivalrous  leaders  engaged 
in  the  American  ranks,  men  who  were 
then  or  afterward  became  greatly  cele- 
brated, Johnson,  Cass,  Perry,  Shelby, 
is  noticeable,  while  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  century  later,  "  The  battle  of  the 
Thames"  was  to  be  one  of  the  watch- 
words of  victory  for  its  General  in  a 
great  political  contest. 

The  effect  of  this  successful  termma- 
tion  of  the  contest  following  upon  Per- 
ry's naval  triumph — a  success  enhanced 
by  the  embarrassments  and  failures  of 
the  early  part  of  the  struggle — upon 
the  "West,  can  hardly  be  appreciated  at 
the  present  day.  It  was  a  release  from 
danger  and  from  fear,  from  a  remorse- 
less foe  and  the  scalping  knife  of  the 
savage.  With  Tecumseh  fell  the  last 
Indian  enemy  known  to  a  great  region 
of  the  West.  Henceforth  we  are  to 
follow  his  successful  adversary  through 
the  paths  of  civil  life.  General  Harri- 
son was  not  engaged  in  the  later  occu- 
pations of  the  army.  He  was  in  effect 
driven  to  retirement  by  the  arrange- 
ments of  General  Armstrong,  the  Sec- 
retary of  War,  by  whom  he  was,  under 
some  adverse  influence  or  other,  vii^tu- 
ally  suspended  in  his  command.  When 
he  was  omitted  in  the  plan  of  the  next 
year's  campaign,  he  resigned  the  com- 
mission which  he  held  as  major-general, 
and  its  accompanying  emoluments. 

He  now  resided  at  his  farm  at  North 
Bend,  on  the  Ohio,  near  Cincinnati, 
which  henceforth,  in  the  intervals  of 


WILLIAM  HENRY  HARRISON. 


219 


public  occupation  to  wliicli  Le  was  fre- 
quently called,  continued  liis  residence. 
He  was  in  Congress  from  1816  to  1818, 
a  member  of  tlie  House  of  Representa- 
tives, and  from  1824  to  1828  a  member 
of  the  Senate.  Between  tliese  dates  lie 
sat  in  tlie  Ohio  Senate.  In  1828  we 
find  him  appointed  by  President  John 
Quincy  Adams,  Minister  Plenipoten- 
tiary to  the  Republic  of  Columbia. 
He  reached  Bogota,  the  seat  of  his  du- 
ties, in  February  of  the  next  year,  and 
was  received  with  favor,  but  he  had 
hardly  entered  upon  the  mission  when 
President  Jackson  coming  into  office,  he 
was  recalled.  Resuming  again  his  agri- 
cultural pursuits  at  North  Bend  upon 
his  return,  he  was  occasionally  called 
upon  to  deliver  public  addresses  and 
speeches,  of  which  several  were  printed. 
One  of  these,  which  was  republished 
duiing  his  canvass  for  the  presidency, 
was  a  discourse  before  the  Philosophical 
and  Historical  Society  of  Ohio,  in  1837, 
in  which  he  took  the  aborigines  of  the 
State  for  his  text.  He  had  some  talent 
for  composition  and  was  fond  of  illus- 
trations drawn  from  ancient  history. 

In  1836,  G-eneral  Harrison  was  a  can- 
didate for  the  presidency  in  opposition 
to  Van  Buren,  Though  the  strength 
of  the  Whig  party  which  he  represented, 
was  somewhat  divided,  he  received 
seventy-three  electoral  votes,  a  sufficient 
test  of  his  popularity  to  bring  him  into 
the  field  again  at  the  next  election. 
The  elements  of  opposition  had  in  the 
meantime  gained  force;  the  country 
was  suffering  under  an  extraordinary 
financial  depression;  there  was  discon- 
tent on  all  sides.  Greneral  Harrison  re- 
ceived the  nomination  of  twenty-two 


states  at  Harrisburg,  and  was  triumph- 
antly borne  into  the  presidential  chair. 
A  peculiarity  of  the  canvass  was  the 
popular  good  will,  which  eagerly  seiz- 
ing hold  of  the  "  log  cabin  "  and  "  hard 
cider"  as  emblems  of  the  simplicity  of 
his  early  western  life,  turned  them  to 
political  account.  "Log  cabins"  were 
set  up  in  villages  and  towns  through- 
out the  country,  at  which  hard  cider  or 
its  more  comfortable  equivalents  were 
freely  dispensed.  Carried  rapidly  on- 
ward in  the  popular  enthusiasm,  he  re- 
ceived the  electoral  vote  of  twenty  of 
the  twenty-six  States,  and  two  hundred 
and  thirty-four  electoral  votes  against 
only  sixty  given  to  Mr.  Van  Buren. 

The  inauguration  of  President  Harri- 
son at  Washington,  took  place  on  the 
4th  of  March,  1841 ;  on  the  same  day  of 
the  following  month  he  breathed  his 
last.  The  active  duties  of  his  responsi- 
ble station,  the  exacting  pretensions  of 
office  seekers  who  beset  a  new  president, 
the  pressure  of  the  previous  canvass, 
may  have  all  contributed  to  the  severity 
of  the  shock  which  deprived  him  of  life. 
He  was  sixty-eight  years  old,  a  time  of 
life  when  any  great  change  of  habit- 
may  easily  destroy  the  constitution; 
when  a  simple  cause  may  shake  a  wea- 
ried frame.  A  slight  cold  which  he 
took  by  exposure  to  the  rain  was  fol- 
lowed by  sudden  prostration;  a  diar- 
rhoea set  in,  and  after  an  illness  of  but 
a  few  days  he  expired.  His  last  words, 
heard  by  his  physician.  Dr.  Worthing- 
ton,  were  as  if  addressing  his  successor, 
"  Sir,  I  wish  you  to  understand  the  true 
principles  of  the  government.  I  msh 
them  carried  out.  I  ask  nothing  more." 
In  announcing  the  event  to  the  public, 


WILLIAM  HENRY  nARRISON. 


tlie  members  of  tlie  Cabinet,  of  wliicli 
Daniel  Webster  was  at  tlie  head,  wi'ote : 
"The  people  of  tlie  United  States,  over- 
whelmed like  ourselves,  by  an  event  so 
unexpected  and  so  melancholy,  will 
derive  consolation  from  knowing  that 
his  death  was  calm  and  resigned  as  his 
life  had  been  patriotic,  useful,  and  dis- 
tinguished ;  and  that  the  last  utterance 
from  his  lips  expressed  a  fervent  desire 
for  the  perpetuity  of  the  constitution 
and  the  preservation  of  its  true  princi- 
ples. In  death,  as  in  life,  the  happiness 
of  his  country  was  uppermost  in  his 
thoughts." 

The  personal  qualities  of  Greneral 
Harrison  had  much  to  do  with  his  ele- 


vation to  the  presidency.  His  life  was 
marked  by  a  union  of  moderation  with 
good  fortune  and  substantial  success  in 
public  affairs.  He  was  prosperous  as  a 
commander  where  others  failed ;  he  was 
identified  with  the  growth  and  prospe- 
rity of  a  powerful  region  of  the  repub- 
lic; he  had  made  few  enemies  though 
he  had  been  the  subject  of  hostility, 
and  he  had  been  too  long  retired  from 
public  life  to  awaken  any  new  preju- 
dices. His  military  reputation,  after 
the  precedent  of  Jackson,  was  doubtless 
in  his  favor ;  but  a  belief  in  his  good 
sense  and  his  integrity,  with  the  expecta- 
tions of  the  times,  in  a  change  of  policy, 
were  the  elements  of  his  success. 


■- 

■•i 

r .  ii 


WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRESCOTT. 


The  life  of  tliis  distinguislied  histo- 
rian exhibits  not  only  the  career  of  a 
successful  man  of  letters  in  the  produc- 
tion of  a  series  of  books  of  universal 
interest  among  all  civilized  communi- 
ties ;  but  it  is  remarkable  for  the  con- 
quest, under  peculiar  privations,  of  diffi- 
culties in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  sel- 
dom in  like  circumstances  surmounted 
or  even  attempted  to  be  surmounted. 
Mr.  Prescott's  great  historical  works 
were  written,  for  the  most  part,  by  him 
while  he  was  in  a  state  of  partial  blind- 
ness, and  the  labor  required  was  such 
that  for  purposes  of  study  and  composi- 
tion he  might  be  considered  wholly  de- 
prived of  sight.  For  a  good  portion  of 
his  long-continued  toil  he  was  obliged  to 
rely  on  an  assistant  for  reading  and  pre- 
senting his  materials,  exactly  as  Milton 
was  dependent  on  his  daughters.  He 
had  not  the  felicity  of  Milton  in  those 
years  of  profound  and  extensive  study 
which  had  accumulated  such  vast  trea- 
sures in  his  mind  before  the  organ  of 
sight  was  extinguished.  But  he  had  one 
advantage,  it  may  be  said,  in  wealth  and 
leisure,  which  placed  the  literary  trea- 
sures of  the  world  at  his  disposal  and 
gave  him  the  command  of  the  services  of 
intel]  igent  secretaries.  These  were,  how- 
ever, aids  which  depended  altogether 
upon  the  resolution  to  employ  them ;  for 


wealth  and  leisure  are  oftener  found 
means  of  self-indulgence,  especially 
when  physical  disability  offers  so  good 
a  plea,  than  incentives  to  extraordinary 
exertion.  The  literary  activity  of  Pres- 
cott  would  have  been  remarkable  in  a 
man  of  full  health  with  every  benefit 
of  fortune;  in  his  case  a  double  debt 
of  gratitude  is  due  ffom  his  readers  for 
whom,  with  strict  parsimony,  he  hus- 
banded every  moment  of  his  time  and 
every  possible  use  of  his  powers. 

William  Hickling  Prescott  was  born 
at  Salem,  Massachusetts,  the  residence 
of  his  father.  May  4, 1Y96.  His  family 
was  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  honored 
in  the  State,  his  immediate  ancestors  for 
four  generations  having  been  persons 
of  distinction.  His  great-grandfather 
was  a  councillor  of  the  old  Colony  Go- 
vernment; his  grandfather  was  the 
memorable  defender  of  Bunker  Hill; 
his  father,  also  named  William  Prescott, 
a  lawyer  and  judge  of  high  character, 
has  been  pronounced  by  competent  au- 
thority, "  one  of  the  wisest  and  best  as 
well  as  one  of  the  ablest  men  that  JSTew 
England  has  produced."  His  mother 
was  the  daughter  of  Thomas  Hickling, 
of  whose  character  it  is  enough  to  say 
that  he  was  appointed  by  Washington 
Consul  at  St.  Michaels,  and  that  he  held 
the  office  for  nearly  half  a  century 

921 


222 


WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRESCOTT. 


The  early  years  of  Prescott  were 
passed  at  Salem,  but  at  twelve  lie  came 
with  his  parents  to  Boston,  and  had  the 
benefit  in  his  education  of  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  Eev.  Dr.  Gardiner,  an  Episco- 
pal clergyman  of  Boston,  a  good  scholar 
and  positive  character  of  the  old  school. 
He  entered  Harvard  at  fifteen,  the 
usual  age,  and  graduated  in  regular 
course  in  1814.  It  was  while  he  was 
a  student  at  Cambridge  that  the  acci- 
dent occurred  which  so  materially  af- 
fected his  eyesight".  He  was  sitting  at 
table  in  the  college  hall  when  a  school- 
mate threw  a  crust  at  him  across  the 
board.  It  struck  his  eye,  and  this  slight 
cause  was  the  occasion  of  his  subse- 
quent difiiculties.  He  entirely  lost  the 
use  of  the  injured  eye  and  the  other 
became  in  consequence  sympathetically 
affected,  and  so  impaired  that  he  could 
use  it,  at  the  best  of  times  afterwards, 
only  in  the  most  guarded  manner.  He 
would,  we  are  told,  had  it  not  been  for 
this  disaster,  have  engaged  in  his  father's 
profession,  the  law ;  but  the  injury  he 
had  received  rendered  this  impossible. 
He  endeavored  in  every  way  to  remedy 
it,  by  the  relaxation  of  foreign  travel 
and  consultation  with  eminent  Euro- 
pean oculists,  who  could  afford  him  no 
aid.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  man 
that  in  this  strait  he  deliberately  chose 
a  calling  which  he  might  pursue  as  his 
health  permitted.  In  a  letter  which  he 
wrote  and  which  has  been  published 
by  his  friend  the  Eev.  George  E.  Ellis, 
he  says,  speaking  of  his  college  acci- 
dent and  his  interrupted  reading,  "I 
conse(|uently  abandoned  the  study  of 
the  law  upon  which  I  had  entered ;  and, 
as  a  man  must  find  something  to  do,  I 


determined  to  devote  myself  to  letters, 
in  which  independent  career  I  could 
regulate  my  own  hours  with  reference 
to  what  my  sight  miglit  enable  me  to 
accomplish." 

After  two  years  travel  in  England, 
France  and  Italy,  on  his  return  home 
he  devoted  himself  to  a  thorough  pre- 
paration for  historical  studies  in  a  dili- 
gent cultivation  of  his  faculties  and  a 
thorough  course  of  study  of  ancient 
classical  literature  and  the  modern  lan- 
guages of  France,  Italy  and  Spain.  He 
had  Gibbon  before  him  as  his  great  ex- 
emplar, that  author's  Autobiography, 
a  kindling  incentive  to  an  ingenuous 
youth  bent  on  the  pursuit  of  letters,  as 
he  himself  tells  us,  stimulating  the 
strong  passion  for  historical  writing 
which  he  had  early  conceived.  "  I  pro- 
posed," he  says  in  the  letter  just  cited, 
"  to  make  myself  a  historian  in  the  best 
sense  of  the  term  and  hoped  to  produce 
something  which  posterity  would  not 
willingly  let  die."  In  a  memorandum 
book,  as  far  back  as  the  year  1819  (he 
was  then  in  his  twenty-third  year)  "  I 
find,"  he  continues,  "the  desire  inti- 
mated; and  I  propose  to  devote  ten 
years  of  my  life  to  the  study  of  ancient 
and  modern  literature — chiefly  the  lat- 
ter— and  to  give  ten  years  more  to  some 
historical  work." 

The  design  was  literally  and  faith- 
fully carried  out.  The  occasional  pa- 
pers which  he  published  in  the  North 
American  Review  during  this  advanced 
period  of  literary  pupilage  bear  witness 
to  the  range  and  happy  selection  of  his 
studies.  They  include  critical  and  de- 
scriptive articles  on  Italian  Narrative 
Poetry,  the  Poetry  and  Romance  of  the 


WILLIAM   HICKLING  PRESOOTT. 


223 


Itiiliaus,  Moli^ire,  Cervantes,  Irving's 
"Conquest  of  Granada" — the  last,  writ- 
ten in  1829,  sio-uificant  of  tlie  direction 
his  mind  had  already  taken.  Its  open- 
ing sentences  are  filled  with  frequent 
suggestions  of  his  historic  enterprise  as 
he  glances  at  the  requisitions  of  the 
finished  historian.  He  not  only  sees 
the  inevitable  requisites  of  truth  and 
fidelity,  but  is  quite  awake  to  the 
lighter  graces  and  artistic  demands. 
"Mixed  up,"  says  he,  "with  the  drier 
details,  he  must  display  the  various 
powers  of  a  novelist  or  dramatist,  throw- 
ing his  characters  into  suitable  lights 
and  shades,  disposing  his  scenes  so  as 
to  awaken  and  maintain  an  unflagging 
interest,  diffusing  over  the  whole  that 
finished  style,  without  which  his  work 
will  only  become  a  magazine  of  mate- 
rials for  the  more  elegant  edifices  of 
subsequent  writers." 

The  historical  theme  which  he  chose 
for  the  main  exercise  of  his  powers  was 
the  reign  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
an  admirably  selected  subject  leading 
the  way  to  a  mine  of  literary  wealth 
worked  before  and  since  by  many  emi- 
nent wiiters,  but  by  none  more  profit- 
ably than  by  himself.  It  was  his  first 
care  in  preparation  for  this  work  to  sur- 
round himself  with  an  ample  store  of 
original  authorities.  Fortune,  happily, 
had  placed  it  in  his  power  to  satisfy 
this  prime  necessity  of  his  labors.  His 
studies,  his  correspondence  and  friend- 
ships had  given  him  peculiar  facilities, 
which  he  availed  himself  of  to  the 
utmost.  But  while  his  materials  were 
being  collected  for  him  at  Madrid,  his 
eye  was  so  severely  tried  by  his  studies 
that  on  the  arrival  of  these  Spanish 


authorities,  he  was  quite  unable  to  use 
them.  It  was  several  years  before  he 
was  again  in  a  situation  to  read.  "  I 
well  remember,"  he  wrote  subsequently, 
"  the  blank  despair  which  I  felt  wlien 
my  literary  treasures  arrived  from  Spain 
and  I  saw  the  mine  of  wealth  lying 
around  me  which  I  was  forbidden  to 
explore,"  It  was  not  in  his  nature, 
however,  to  despair.  He  was  already 
prepared  to  encounter  the  hardships  of 
a  partial  deprivation  of  sight ;  nor  did 
his  courage  fail  him  at  the  prospect  of 
total  blindness.  The  heroic  effort  of 
Milton  was  before  him,  which  appears 
always  to  have  cheered  his  heart.  A 
remark  of  Dr.  Johnson  in  his  life  of 
the  great  poet,  to  the  effect  that  the 
composition  of  a  history  from  various 
authors  "when  they  can  only  be  con- 
sulted by  other  eyes,  is  not  easy,  nor 
possible,  but  with  more  skillful  and  at- 
tentive help  than  can  be  commonly 
obtained,"  he  tells  us  "first  engaged 
my  attention  in  the  midst  of  my  em- 
barrassments, and,  although  discourag- 
ing at  first,  in  the  end  stimulated  the 
desire  to  overcome  them."  A  happier 
instance  of  the  benefit  of  a  chance-sown 
reflection — and  the  writings  of  Johnson, 
who  always  looked  tenderly  to  human 
interests,  abounds  with  such — can  hard- 
ly be  found  in  literature. 

The  young  author  set  himself  reso- 
lutely to  the  work  of  overcoming  the 
difficulty.  "  The  ear,"  as  he  said,  "  was 
to  do  the  work  of  the  eye."  He  began 
experimentally  with  a  reader  who  knew 
no  language  but  English,  who  com- 
menced reciting  to  him  the  history  of 
Mariana  in  tones  which  he  was  gradu- 
ally taught  to  accommodate  to  his  hear- 


22i 


WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRESCOTT. 


er's  perceptions.  It  was  unsatisfactory 
enoiigli  at  first  as  they  groped  tlieir 
way  througli  the  darkness,  hut  "in  a 
few  weeks  the  light  became  stronger; 
and  cheered,"  Mr.  Prescott  tells  us,  "  by 
the  consciousness  of  my  own  improve- 
ment, when  we  had  toiled  our  way 
through  seven  quartos,  I  found  I  could 
understand  the  book  when  read  about 
two-thirds  as  fast  as  ordinary  English." 
A  more  accomplished  assistant  was  then 
engaged  to  lead,  if  we  should  not  rather 
say,  be  led,  by  the  author  through  this 
dreary  track  of  investigation.  After 
some  years  spent  in  this  "tortoise-like 
progress,"  listening  to  the  crabbed  de- 
tails, selecting  the  most  valuable  points, 
dictating  them  to  the  amanuensis  and 
again  listening  to  the  repeated  reading 
of  them  till  the  whole  was  stored  for 
use  in  the  author's  mind,  ready  to  be 
engrossed  in  a  chapter  of  his  narrative, 
he  had  recourse  to  a  method  which 
enabled  him  to  help  himself.  Thierry, 
the  French  historian  of  the  Norman 
Conquest,  also  deprived  of  sight,  had 
advised  him  to  cultivate  dictation,  but 
he  usually  preferred  a  method  which 
he  had  found  in  use  in  London  in 
the  beneficent  efforts  for  the  ameliora- 
tion of  the  condition  of  the  blind.  As 
described  by  himself,  this  simple  ap- 
paratus consisted  of  "a  frame  of  the 
size  of  a  sheet  of  paper,  traversed 
by  brass  wires,  as  many  as  lines  are 
wanted  on  the  page,  with  a  sheet  of 
carbonated  paper,  such  as  is  used  for 
getting  duplicates,  pasted  on  the  reverse 
side.  "With  an  ivory  or  agate  stylus 
the  wi'iter  traces  his  characters  between 
the  wires  on  the  carbonated  sheet,  mak- 
ing indelible  marks,  which  he  cannot 


see,  on  the  white  page  below."  It  was 
"a  treadmill  operation,"  he  says,  subject 
to  many  "  whimsical  distresses,"  and  the 
characters  traced  had  something  of  the 
nature  of  hieroglyphics,  but  he  found 
this  writing-case  his  "  best  friend  in  his 
lonely  hours,"  and  with  its  aid  he 
penned  the  many  successive  volumes 
of  his  histories.  Before,  however,  his 
first  work,  the  "Ferdinand  and  Isabella," 
was  completed,  his  sight  was  so  far  re- 
covered as  to  enable  him  to  revise  the 
manuscripts  which  he  had  thus  pre- 
pared unseen. 

In  1837,  the  work  was  committed  to 
the  press.  Its  reception  at  once,  at 
home  and  abroad,  stamped  the  author  as 
a  popular  writer  with  the  masses  and  an 
acquisition  to  the  learned  circles  of  the 
world.  It  has  been  translated  into 
Spanish,  Italian  and  German,  and  passed 
into  a  universal  literary  currency.  Its 
merits  were  not  to  be  mistaken.  A 
spirit  of  calm,  judicious  investigation, 
supported  by  unwearied  industry  and 
research ;  with  a  constant  regard  to  the 
artistic  opportunities  of  the  ever  vary- 
ing theme ;  all  borne  along  on  a  style 
of  remarkable  ease  and  clearness,  were 
not  to  be  overlooked  in  a  rising  histo- 
rian who  came  to  fill  a  much  lamented 
gap  in  the  best  stored  libraries.  Mr. 
Everett  relates  an  anecdote  of  the  pos- 
sessor of  such  a  collection  who  was  loud 
in  his  praises.  "  Calling  one  day,"  says 
he,  "  on  the  venerable  Mr.  Thomas  Gren- 
ville,  whom  I  found  in  his  library,  the 
second  in  size  and  value  of  the  private 
libraries  of  England,  reading  Xeno- 
phon's  'Anabasis'  in  the  original,  I 
made  some  passing  remark  on  the 
beauty  of  that  work.    '  Here,'  said  he, 


WILLIAM  HIOKLING  PRESCOTT. 


holding  up  a  volume  of  '  Ferdinaud  and 
Isabella,'  '  is  one  for  superior.'  "  ^  Yet 
sueli  was  the  modesty  of  the  author  tliat, 
after  he  liad  finished  the  work,  he  hesi- 
tated as  to  its  publication.  Content 
with  the  gratification  of  having  witten 
the  book,  of  his  triumph  over  extraordi- 
nary difiiculties,  he  said  to  his  father 
"  that  he  should  place  it  on  his  shelf  and 
leave  it  for  those  who  come  after  him." 
The  work,  it  should  be  mentioned,  was 
printed  for  his  own  use,  that  he  might 
be  able  to  correct  it,  in  large  type  in 
quarto.  In  the  same  spirit  with  the 
remark  to  his  father,  he  consulted  Mr. 
Jared  Sparks  as  a  consummate  master 
of  historic  studies,  placing  the  volumes 
in  his  hands  for  perusal.  He  was,  of 
course,  met  with  an  expression  of  admi- 
ration at  the  beauty  and  interest  of  the 
work.  This  the  cautious  mood  of  the 
miter  questioned  as  a  tribute  of  friendly 
feeling,  and  asked  anew,  "  Do  you  think 
it  should  be  published  ?"  "  Why  not  ?" 
was  the  reply ;  to  which  the  author  ex- 
pressed his  doubts  of  success  in  the 
remoteness  of  the  subject  and  his  fear 
that  his  execution  of  it  would  not  prove 
sufficiently  attractive.  The  judgment 
of  his  father,  it  is  said,  determined  his 
resolution  to  publish.  Without  placing 
too  much  stress  upon  anecdotes  of  this 
kind,  which  frequently  savor  of  affecta- 
tion, we  may  believe  the  emotion  in  this 
case  to  have  been  real  and  that  it  would 
have  cost  the  author  no  sacrifice  of 
vanity  to  have  withheld  his  book  from 
the  public.  Yet  we  can  hardly  suppose 
him  unconscious  of  its  value;  he,  un- 
doubtedly, with  the  greatest  intellects, 

•  Mr.  Everett's  Remarks  on  Mr.  Prescott  before  the 
Massachusetts  Historical  Society. 


experienced  a  pleasure  in  the  exercise  of 
his  faculties,  and  was  quite  too  well  con- 
scious of  the  means  which  he  so  dili- 
gently employed  to  be  ignorant  of  re- 
sults. Besides,  there  is  in  the  minds  of 
the  best  authors  a  stronger  satisfaction 
in  the  sense  of  ability,  the  faculty  to  do 
something  which  demands  genius  and 
effort,  the  self-approval  of  accomplishing 
it,  than  in  the  accidental  returns  of  favor 
from  the  public.  Vanity  must  be  re- 
warded on  the  instant,  but  genius,  self- 
inspired,  can  wait, 

Mr.  Prescott's  second  work  was  a 
natural  sequence  to  his  first.  He  had 
already  been  carried  in  his  labors  to 
the  western  hemisphere,  and  two  of  the 
most  brilliant  episodes  of  history,  in 
the  discoveries  and  conquests  of  Mexico 
and  Peru,  lay  before  him.  Again  rein- 
forced by  a  copious  stock  of  new  mate- 
rials, he  approached  his  task  with  a 
stimulus  of  original  research  denied  to 
his  predecessors  in  the  field.  The 
Eoyal  Academy  of  History  at  Madrid 
placed  at  his  disposal  the  extensive  man- 
uscript collections  of  the  indefatigable 
historiographer  Muiioz,  and  of  its  presi- 
dent, Don  Vargas  Ponpe,  while  the 
living  head  of  that  body,  the  eminent 
Navarrete,  made  him  a  like  sharer  of  his 
labors.  From  Mexico  itself,  from  Naples 
and  from  Great  Britain,  he  obtained 
like  important  aid.  Thus  fortified  he 
approached  his  captivating  subject.  He 
had  hardly  completed  this  preparation, 
however,  when  he  learnt  that  the  topic 
had  already  engaged  the  attention  of 
Washington  Irving,  who  may  be  said  to 
have  fairly  taken  possession  of  this  his- 
toric ground  in  America  by  his  "  Life  of 
Columbus."    The  story  filled  with  gal- 


226 


WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRBSCOTT. 


lautiy  and  enterprise  and  deeds  of 
tlirilling  adventure  must  indeed  have 
been  attractive  to  the  pen  to  which 
Spanish  themes  of  knightly  daring  al- 
wajs  presented  a  peculiar  fascination. 
That  Mr.  Irving  readily  yielded  to  his 
brother  in  letters  was  in  a  noble  spirit 
of  courtesy  worthy  of  the  association; 
for  he  had  not  only  his  eye  upon  the 
tempting  narrative  but  had  made  some 
progress,  we  believe,  in  collecting  the 
requisite  material.  But  whatever  he 
had  undertaken  in  this  direction  he 
cheerfully  relinquished  the  whole ;  and 
well  did  he  entitle  himself  to  the  hand- 
some compliment  which  Mr,  Prescott 
paid  him  in  his  allusion  to  this  instance 
of  magnanimity.  "It  was  not,"  says 
he,  in  his  preface  to  the  "  Conquest  of 
Mexico,"  "  till  I  had  become  master  of 
my  rich  collection  of  materials,  that  I 
was  acquainted  with  this  circumstance ; 
and,  had  he  persevered  in  his  design,  I 
should  unhesitatingly  have  abandoned 
my  own,  if  not  from  courtesy,  at  least 
from  policy;  for,  though  armed  with 
the  weapons  of  Achilles,  this  could  give 
me  no  hope  of  success  in  a  competition 
with  Achilles  himself  But  no  sooner 
was  that  distinguished  writer  informed 
of  the  preparations  I  had  made,  than, 
with  the  gentlemanly  spirit  which  will 
surprise  no  one  who  has  the  pleasure  of 
his  acquaintance,  he  instantly  announced 
to  me  his  intention  of  leaving  the  sub- 
ject open  to  me.  "While,"  gracefully 
added  the  writer,  "  I  do  but  justice  to 
Mr.  Irving  by  this  statement,  I  feel  the 
prejudice  it  does  to  myself  in  the  una- 
vailing regret  I  am  exciting  in  the 
bosom  of  the  reader." 

The  "  Conquest  of  Mexico"  was  pub- 


lished in  1843,  and  its  companion  his 
tory,  the  "  Conquest  of  Peru,"  appeared 
in  184'7.  The  general  attractiveness 
and  splendor  of  the  subject,  the  abun- 
dant opportunity  for  picturesque  de- 
scription in  geography,  natural  history, 
the  quaint  civilization  of  the  countries, 
and  above  all  the  blending  of  biography 
with  history  in  the  military  adventures 
of  the  two  heroes  Cortez  and  Pizarro, 
the  whole  tinctured  by  the  wonder  and 
enthusiasm  of  the  old  Spanish  authori- 
ties, gained  probably  for  the  author 
many  new  admirers  even  for  his  more 
sober  political  and  state  disquisitions. 
The  flowing  ease  of  his  style,  his  choice 
selection  of  circumstances  and  careful 
arrangements  of  his  stage  scenery  were 
well  bestowed,  and  the  result  was,  as 
before,  a  work  of  lasting  interest. 

The  field  of  Spanish  adventure  in 
America  being  thus  fairly  divided  with 
equal  honors,  between  Irving  and  Pres- 
cott, the  latter  turned  to  the  more  intri- 
cate but  not  less  imposing  procession 
of  events  in  Europe.  Passing  over  the 
reign  of  Charles  V. — though  he  subse- 
quently added  notes  and  an  appendix 
to  the  life  of  that  monarch  by  Robert- 
son, presenting  the  newly  discovered 
details  of  his  career  in  retirement  after 
his  abdication — he  devoted  himself  assi- 
duously to  his  last  great  undertaking, 
the  "  History  of  the  Reign  of  Philip  11." 
Two  volumes  of  this  work  were  issued 
in  1855,  and  a  third  was  still  wet  from 
the  press  in  the  beginning  of  1859, 
when,  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  January 
of  that  year,  the  author  was  suddenly 
called  from  his  earthly  labors.  Critics 
were  busy  analyzing  his  noble  work 
and  sounding  his  praises,  when  their 


WILLIAM  niCKLING  PRESCOTT. 


227 


pens  were  summoned  to  write  his  obitu- 
ary, and  to  the  eulogy  of  the  author  was 
added  new  admiration  of  the  man.  So 
quietly  and  moderately  had  Mr.  Pres- 
cott  lived,  in  devotion  to  his  family  and 
fi-iends  and  in  the  engrossing  pursuit 
of  his  historic  studies,  that  it  has  sel- 
dom happened  that  one  so  well  known 
by  fame  and  cherished  in  his  writings 
had  furnished  so  little  of  personal  anec- 
dote to  bring  his  life  familiarly  home 
to  his  readers.  There  was  no  deter- 
mined seclusion  in  this,  for  he  appears 
always  to  have  been  affable  and  easy 
of  approach.  It  arose  from  his  earnest, 
continuous  occupation  in  his  work  as 
the  chosen  labor  of  his  life,  from  which 
he  turned  neither  to  the  right  nor  the 
left.  His  attention  was  never  dis- 
tracted by  politics  or  society,  which 
bring  men  into  mixed  relations  with 
the  public ;  he  was  free  from  the  vanity 
of  obtruding  himself.  The  world  knew 
him  only  through  his  writings. 

The  death  of  Mr.  Prescott,  though 
the  blow  fell  suddenly,  was  not  alto- 
gether unexj)ected ;  at  least  he  had  the 
previous  warning  a  few  months  before 
of  a  first  attack  of  paralysis.  When 
he  was  again  fatally  stricken  by  this  dis- 
ease, it  came  upon  him  in  the  enjoyment 
of  apparent  health  as  he  was  engaged 
in  his  usual  occupations.  A  friend  who 
saw  him  a  few  days  before  his  decease, 
was  struck  with  his  cheerfulness  and 
eager  interest  in  matters  of  literature. 
So  that  those  who  loved  him  were  re- 
conciled to  his  departure,  "taken  away 
by  a  noiseless  appointment  and  a  swift 
angel."  ^ 

'  Address  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Frothingham  before  the 
Massachusetts  Historical  Society. 


The  devotion  of  Mr.  Prescott  to  his 
chosen  pursuits  was  singular.  The  care  of 
his  family  and  the  social  demands  upon 
one  of  his  |)osition  in  society  being  taken 
into  consideration,  it  was  extraordinary. 
Of  course  it  could  only  be  attained  by 
the  most  punctilious  self-denying  me- 
thod. It  is  perhaps  not  difficult  for  one 
gifted  with  a  taste  for  writing,  to  em- 
ploy many  hours  of  the  day  in  compo- 
sition; but  to  associate  this  pleasing 
occupation  with  the  requisite  industry 
of  the  great  historian  extorting  his  mat- 
ter from  the  dry  records  and  obscurities 
of  strange  foreign  dialects ;  to  be  met 
at  every  turn  by  doubt  and  perplexity; 
to  turn  wearied  from  the  labor  of  re- 
search to  the  hardly  less  exacting  de- 
mands of  grouping,  arrangement,  and — ■ 
in  Mr.  Prescott's  case — of  carefal  dicta- 
tion or  a  mode  of  writing  quite  out  of 
the  way  of  the  usual  facilities,  may  well 
demand  our  admiration.  One  of  his 
secretaries  has  given  us  an  interesting 
picture  of  his  entire  method — introduc- 
ing us,  as  it  were,  to  the  secrets  of  his 
workshop.  He  is  speaking  of  the  year 
1847,  when  the  author  was  beginning 
his  work  on  Philip  II. 

"  Systematical  in  all  his  habits,"  says 
his  secretary,  "his  daily  mode  of  life 
was  regulated  by  an  exact  division  of 
time,  to  which  he  adhered  punctiliously. 
He  rose  early,  waked  by  an  alarm  clock, 
w;hose  summons  he  never  disobeyed. 
Ascertaining  by  the  thermometer  the 
state  of  the  temperature  out  of  doors, 
he  clothed  himself  accordingly,  putting 
on  so  many  pounds  of  clothing,  more 
or  less,  according  to  the  weather.  His 
coats,  vests,  and  pantaloons,  were  all 
marked  with  their  weight  in  pounds 


228 


WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRESCOTT. 


and  ounces.    He  walked  for  half  an 
hour  before  breakfast,  generally,  I  think, 
p'oino-  over  the  same  route  each  day — 
that  is,  walking  to  a  particular  spot  and 
then  turning  back.    He  always  walked 
alone,  if  he  could  without  discourtesy, 
disliking  to  have  any  companion  in  his 
rambles,  because  while  walking  he  oc- 
cupied his  thoughts  in  composition. 
After  breakfast  his  wife  read  to  him  for 
an  hour,  during  which  time  he  shaved 
and  made  his  toilet  for  the  day.  The 
book  selected  for  this  hour  was  always 
one  of  light  literature — generally  a  no- 
vel.   He  was  very  fond  of  novels,  and 
thought  they  stimulated  his  imagina- 
tion and  contributed  to  the  animation 
and  picturesqueness  of  his  style.  But 
nothing  could  tempt  him  to  give  more 
than  an  hour  to  such  reading.  When 
the  hour  expired,  the  reading  stopped, 
not  to  be  resumed  till  the  next  day,  no 
matter  how  interesting  the  book  or 
exciting  the  story.    At  the  time  I  speak 
of,  he  was  reading,  in  this  way,  the 
novels  of  Dumas  and  Eugene  Sue — 
'  Monte  Christo,' '  The  Mysteries  of  Pa- 
ris,' and  'The  Wandering  Jew.'  At 
the  end  of  the  hour  the  book  would 
be  laid  down,  even  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  intense  chapter.    He  confessed  he 
relished  highly  these  romances,  though 
he  laughed  at  their  extravagance,  com- 
paring them  to  the  '  Arabian  Nights,' 
and  saying  that  they  were  composed 
on  the  principle  of  carrying  out  in 
Western  scenes  and  characters  the  au- 
dacious wildness  of  Oriental  invention. 
He  delighted  also  to  have  Dickens  read 
to  him,  and  when  sitting  for  his  por- 
trait to  Healy,  and  afterwards  to  West 
(the  artist  who  painted  the  well-known 


portrait  of  Lord  Byron),  he  took  me 
with  him  to  read  '  The  Old  Curiosity 
Shop.' 

"The  novel-reading  in  the  morning 
ended  always  at  ten,  and  Mr.  Prescott 
again  went  out  to  walk  for  half  an  hour, 
taking  a  different  route  from  that  of 
the  bef ore-breakfast  walk.    At  lOi  my 
work  began.    I  came  to  his  house  at 
that  hour  every  day,  except  Sunday. 
He  liked  to  have  me  punctual,  and  dis- 
liked to  have  me  come  before  the  time 
appointed.    If  I  came  after  the  time  he 
would  make  no  complaint,  but  would 
gently  rebuke  me  by  looking  at  his 
watch.    He  allowed  ten  minutes'  grace 
for  accidental  detentions.    For  an  hour 
and  a  half  I  read  to  him,  or  wrote  for 
him,  and  then,  at  12  o'clock,  he  sallied 
forth  again  for  another  walk,  during 
which  he  made  purchases,  or  attended 
to  any  business  he  might  have  in  State 
street,  where,  I  think,  he  always  went 
at  this  hour.    At  1  o'clock  he  returned 
and  resumed  the  labors  of  the  study 
for  another  hour  and  a  half.    At  2i  he 
dined.     After  dinner,  Mrs.  Prescott 
again  read  to  him  for  an  hour  from  a 
novel,  while  he  smoked  the  solitary 
cigar .  to  which  he  restricted  himself, 
always  choosing  the  mildest  he  could 
get.    His  numerous  friends  and  corres- 
pondents in  Cuba  and  other  parts  of 
Spanish  America,  kept  him  supplied 
with  a  curious  variety  of  brands.    If  I 
remember  rightly,  he  walked  out  again 
for  half,  an  hour  in  the  afternoon,  his 
daily  stint  of  exercise  in  this  way  being 
five  miles.    He  never  failed  to  perform 
at  least  that  amount  of  walking.   If  the 
weather  was  so  stormy  that  he  could 
not  go  out,  when  his  set  times  arrived, 


WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRBSOOTT. 


229 


lie  would  put  on  his  liat,  boots,  and 
gloves,  take  liis  cane,  and  walk  briskly 
about  tlie  house,  for  the  half  hour  or 
hour,  as  the  case  might  be.  At  6  p.m. 
I  came  to  him  again,  and  remained  till 
8,  wjien  the  labors  of  the  day  were 
over.  His  rule  was  to  spend  five  houi's 
of  the  twenty-foui*  in  his  study,  and  he 
never  exceeded  that  amount." 

To  this  curious  account  of  the  day 
of  an  author  may  be  added  some  more 
particular  details  of  his  manner  of  histo- 
rical composition  from  the  same  source. 
He  began  his  Philip  H.,  for  instance, 
by  causing  to  be  taken  down  from  his 
library  all  the  books  and  manuscripts 
relating  to  the  subject,  materials  which 
lie  had  previously  collected  by  orders 
throughout  Europe,  unlimited  as  re- 
gards variety  or  expense.  Several 
hundred  volumes  in  various  lano'uao-es 
having  been  thus  brought  together  in 
his  study,  he  set  his  secretary  to  the 
work  of  sifting  and  arrangement,  rank- 
ing his  authorities  in  value  according  to 
their  opportunities  of  observation  and 
nearness  to  the  times  of  which  he  was 
about  to  write.  A  careful  analysis  was 
made  of  the  more  valuable  portions. 
The  book  was  carefully  mapped  out  in 
chapters  by  the  author,  who  gave  his 
attention  to  one  at  a  time,  a  plan  which 
doubtless  secured  the  freshness  and  un- 
abated interest  of  the  whole.  As  the 
chapters  frequently  included  an  entire 
section  of  the  subject,  complete  in  itself, 
the  mind  was  not  overburdened,  more 
than  in  writing  a  review  article  or  a 
shoi-t  biography.  Of  course  Mr.  Pres- 
cott  was  all  the  time  conscious  of  the 
work  as  a  whole ;  but  he  had  so  disci- 
plined his  powers  as  to  labor  with  ease 
II.— 29 


and  safety  in  parts.  As  the  requisite 
manuscripts  and  authorities  were  read 
to  him,  he  would  occasionally  dictate  a 
note,  which  was  written  out  in  a  large 
hand.  He  had  these  read  to  him  when 
he  had  got  through  with  his  materia] 
and  then  had  them  laid  before  him  for 
consultation,  while  he  meditated  over 
the  whole.  He  would  sit  silent,  ab- 
sorbed in  this  study,  in  his  library  by 
the  hour,  reflecting  thus,  on  several 
days,  sometimes  for  weeks,  till  he  had 
mastered  the  whole  in  his  mind.  Then 
he  would  write  rapidly,  using  his  writ- 
ing-case ;  and,  as  he  wrote,  his  uncouth 
manuscript  was  copied  by  his  secretary 
in  a  bold  handwriting.  When  it  had 
been  read  to  him  again  and  again  and 
duly  corrected,  it  was  ready  for  the 
printer. 

The  command  of  the  various  facul- 
ties necessary  for  such  a  work  implied 
a  general  discipline  of  temper  which 
extended  into  the  walks  of  daily  life. 
He  was  the  kindest,  most  amiable  of 
men,  systematic  in  his  charities  and 
intercourse  with  his  friends  as  in  his 
study,  a  prudent  economist,  a  liberal 
provider  for  all  worthy  objects.  He 
was  not  one  man  in  his  books  and  an- 
other to  his  friends  and  the  world ;  but 
he  carried  his  amiability  into  life  and 
no  one  was  deceived  by  the  graceful 
qualities  of  his  pen.  "  In  the  writings 
of  Prescott,"  says  his  brother  historian, 
Mr.  Bancroft,  in  his  eulogy  before  the 
New  York  Historical  Society,  "  his  in- 
dividual character  is  never  thrust  on 
the  attention  of  his  readers;  but,  as 
should  ever  be  the  case  in  a  true  work 
of  art,  it  appears  only  in  glimpses,  or 
as  an  abstraction  from  the  whole.  Yet 


230 


WILLIAM  HICKLING  PRESCOTT. 


"his  personality  is  tlie  source  of  the 
cliarm  of  his  style ;  and  all  who  knew 
him  will  say  that  he  was  himself 
greater  and  Letter  than  his  wiitings. 
While  his  histories  prove  him  to  have 
felt  that  he  owed  his  time  to  the 
service  of  mankind,  everything  about 
him  marked  him  out  to  be  the  most 
beloved  of  companions,  and  the  life 
and  joy  and  pride  of  society.  His 
personal  appearance  itself  was  sin- 
gularly pleasing,  and  won  for  him 
everywhere  in  advance  a  welcome  and 
favor.  His  countenance  had  something 
that  brought  to  mind '  the  beautiful  dis- 
dain' that  hovers  on  that  of  the  Apollo. 
But,  while  he  was  high-spirited,  he  was 
tender,  and  gentle,  and  humane.  His 
voice  was  like  music,  and  one  could 
never  hear  enough  of  it.  His  cheerful- 
ness reached  and  animated  all  about 
him.  He  could  indulge  in  playfulness, 
and  could  also  speak  earnestly  and  pro- 


foundly ;  but  he  knew  not  how  to  be 
ungracious  or  pedantic.  In  truth,  the 
charms  of  his  conversation  were  une- 
qualled, he  so  united  the  rich  stores  of 
memory  with  the  ease  of  one  who  is 
familiar  with  the  world.  In  his  friend- 
ships he  was  most  faithful;  true  to 
them  always — true  to  the  last;  never 
allowing  his  confidence  to  be  so  much 
as  ruffled  by  the  noisy  clamors  of 
calumny,  or  by  rivalry,  or  by  dif- 
ferences of  opinion.  In  the  manage- 
ment of  his  affairs,  he  was  prudent 
and  considerate:  in  his  expenditures 
liberal  to  all  about  him,  and  to  those 
in  want  ever  largely  generous,  having 
an  open  hand,  but  doing  good  with- 
out observation.  His  affections  rested 
early  and  happily  on  the  congenial 
object  of  his  choice,  and  the  rosy  light 
of  his  youth,  never  dimmed  by  a  cloud, 
went  with  him  all  his  way  through 
life." 


/ 


'--a/Jo  PuUisliera,  "NewYofk, 


in 

i 


i 


I 


ZACHARY  TAYLOR. 


Of  the  modern  heroes  of  America 
few  stand  out  so  simply  and  distinctly, 
so  "  clear  in  their  great  office,"  as  Gene- 
ral Zachary  Taylor.  His  character  was 
of  remarkahle  purity,  distinguished  by 
equal  worth  and  modesty.  When  he 
suddenly  became  celebrated  in  the 
Mexican  war,  it  was  found  that,  though 
unknown  to  fame,  he  had  deserved  re- 
putation by  his  gallant  conduct  in 
1812,  and  subsequently  in  Florida.  He 
was  known  and  respected  in  the  army ; 
but  there  had  been  no  blazon  of  his 
deeds  in  the  newspapers.  He  was  con- 
tent with  the  performance  of  his  duty. 
This  was  a  motto  and  reward  all  suffi- 
cient to  his  mind.  The  type  of  cha- 
racter which  distinguishes  him  is  that 
of  the  elder  worthies  of  the  Revolution, 
the  Schuylers,  Moultries  and  Pinck- 
neys. 

Zachary  Taylor  was  born  in  Orange 
county,  Virginia,  November  24,  1784, 
of  a  family,  English  in  its  origin,  which 
had  long  been  settled  in  the  colony. 
His  father,  a  man  of  a  brave,  adventur- 
ous turn,  familiarly  known  among  his 
brother  pioneers  as  Captain  Dick  Tay- 
lor, emigrated  when  the  child  was  not 
a  year  old,  to  the  western  part  of  the 
State,  what  was  then  known  as  "  the 
dark  and  bloody  ground"  of  Indian 
strife — ^the  present  Kentucky.  There 


the  boy  had  his  training  in  the  rude, 
hearty,  independent  pursuits  of  frontier 
life.  We  hear  something  of  his  school- 
master, the  approved  migratory  New 
England  pedagogue,  who,  when  his 
pupil  became  celebrated,  remembered 
him  as  "a  veiy  active  and  sensible 
boy."  Of  his  good  sense  we  have  no 
doubt,  for  it  was  a  quality  which 
marked  him  through  life ;  while,  of  his 
activity,  there  is  a  story  related  of  his 
younger  days,  of  his  swimming  across 
the  Ohio,  from  the  Kentucky  to  the 
Indiana  shore,  stemming  a  freezing 
flood  in  March. 

His  entry  in  the  army  dates  from 
that  memorable  period  of  the  attack 
of  the  Shannon  upon  the  Chesapeake, 
the  fountain  of  many  woes  and  glories 
in  the  national  annals.  His  father,  who 
was  something  of  a  politician,  procured 
him  the  appointment  from  Jefferson's 
administration  in  1808  of  lieutenant  in 
the  Seventh  United  States  infantry. 
He  thus  commenced  his  career  in  the 
regular  service.  Two  years  later  the 
young  man  is  married  to  Miss  Margaret 
Smith  of  Maryland.  Immediately  upon 
the  declaration  of  war  with  England  in 
1812,  we  find  him  engaged  under  Gen- 
eral Harrison  in  the  protection  of  the 
northwestern  territory  against  the  at- 
tacks of  the  Indians.    His  defence,  in 

S31 


232 


ZACHARY  TAYLOR. 


that  year,  of  Fort  Harrison,  on  the 
Wabash,  in  the  territory  of  Indiana, 
against  an  attack  of  the  Miamis,  is 
one  of  the  memorable  incidents  of  the 
war.    This  fort,  built  by  the  general 
whose  name  it  bears,  was  situated  on 
the  upper  part  of  the  river,  above  tlie 
present  town  of  Terre  Haute.    It  was 
defended  by  pickets  on  three  sides, 
with  a  row  of  barracks  and  a  block- 
house at  either  end   on  the  fourtb. 
Captain  Taylor  was  left  in  ckarge  of 
the  work  with  a  small  company  of 
men,  in  the  words  of  Ms  dispatcb  to 
General  Harrison,  "  not  more  tban  ten 
or  fifteen  able  to  do  a  great  deal,  tke 
others  being  either  sick  or  convales- 
cent."   He  had  warning  of  the  threat- 
ened approach  of  a  party  of  the  Pro- 
phet's men — the  attack  belonging  to 
that  series  of  movements  instigated  by 
Tecumseh  and  his  brother— and  though 
for  some  time  he  had  not  considered 
the  post  tenable  against  a  large  force, 
hie  prepared  to  defend  it  to  the  best  of 
his  ability.  On  tbe  third  of  September, 
two  young  men,  making  hay  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  fort,  were  picked 
off  by  the  Indians,  and  the  next  night 
they  came  in  numbers  to  the  assault. 
They  began  by  firing   one   of  the 
block-houses,  which   endangered  the 
whole  line  of  barracks.    Captain  Tay- 
lor, almost   disabled  from  a  severe 
fever,  rallied  his  little  force  of  invalids 
to  extinguish  it,  but  the  fire  having 
communicated  to  a  stock  of  whisky  in 
the  building,  soon  ascended  to  the  roof, 
and  his  efforts  had  to  be  directed  to 
the  adjoining  houses.    The  situation 
was  desperate.     In  his  own  simple 
words,  "  Sir,  what  from  the  raging  of 


the  fire,  the  yelling  and  howling  of 
several  hundred  Indians,  the  cries  of 
nine  women  and   children,  part  sol- 
diers' and  part  citizens'  wives,  who  had 
taken  refuge  in  the  fort,  and  the  de- 
sponding of  so  many  men,  which  was 
worse  than  all,  I  can  assure  you  that 
my  feelings  were  unpleasant."    But,  by 
his  own  energy,  and  the  assistance  of 
Surgeon  Clark,  the  only  one  to  aid  him 
in  the  command,  the  roof  was  stripped 
from  the  next  building  and  water  from 
the  well  applied  to  the  exposed  por- 
tions.   The  line  was  saved,  and  the 
open  space  of  the  fire  defended  by  a 
temporary  breastwork.    All  this  was 
done  under  the  enemy's  fire  of  bullets 
and  arrows,  lasting  for  seven  hours,  the 
flames  lighting  up  the  men  at  work  as 
marks  for  the  hostile  missiles.  WWfen 
daylight  came  the  fire  was  returned 
with  effect,  and  the  Indians  took  their 
departure,  slaughtering  the  horses  in 
the  vicinity,  and  driving  off  a  large 
stock  of  cattle ;  what  with  this  and  the 
stores  lost  in  the  conflagration,  leaving 
the  garrison  to  a  diet  of  green  corn. 
For  this   spirited   defence.  President 
Madison  conferred  upon  Taylor  the 
brevet  rank  of  major. 

On  the  reorganization  of  the  army 
after  the  peace,  it  was  proposed  to  de- 
prive him  of  this  rank,  which  he  re- 
sented, and  would  have  retired  to  an 
agricultural  life  had  not  the  govern- 
ment, by  yielding,  retained  him  in  the 
army.  He  was  employed  in  the  Indian 
service  in  various  ways,  and  in  the 
Black  Hawk  war  of  1832  appears  in 
the  field,  taking  an  active  part  as  colo- 
nel  in  the  concluding  battle  of  the  Bad 
Axe  river.    His  next  scene  of  opera- 


ZACHARY  TAYLOR. 


233 


tions  was  the  Florida  war,  a  field  of 
greater  difficulty  than  glory.  He  was 
ordered  to  tliis  service  in  1836,  and  iu 
December  of  tlie  following  year  led  an 
expedition  of  about  a  thousand  men,  a 
few  volunteers  and  the  rest  regulars, 
from  Fort  Grardiner  toward  Lake  Oke- 
chobee,  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
of  which  the  enemy,  some  seven  hun- 
dred strong,  were  encamped  in  a  ham- 
mock. As  the  place  was  approached, 
it  was  found  to  be  protected  in  front 
by  a  swamp  three  quarters  of  a  mile  in 
breadth.  It  was  "  totally  impassable 
for  horses,  and  nearly  so  for  foot,  cov- 
ered with  a  thick  growth  of  saw-grass 
five  feet  high,  and  about  knee  deep  in 
mud  and  water."  This  was  to  be 
crossed  to  get  within  range  of  the  foe, 
who  fought  from  behind  trees  with 
eveiy  advantage  of  position.  In  the 
arrangement  of  the  attack,  the  volun- 
teers were  sent  forward  with  directions 
to  fall  back,  if  necessary,  while  the 
regulars  would  sustain  them.  They 
advanced,  were  fired  upon,  their  com- 
mander Colonel  Gentry  of  Missouri 
slain,  when  they  retreated.  The  regu- 
lars then  made  their  way  through  the 
high,  stiff  grass,  suffering  heavy  losses ; 
the  place  of  the  fallen  was  succeeded 
by  others,  and  the  enemy  finally  driven 
to  the  lake  in  confusion.  The  action 
lasted  from  half-past  twelve  till  three 
P.M.  It  was  one  of  the  important  vic- 
tories of  the  war,  it  being  exceedingly 
difficult  to  get  the  Indians  to  stand  in 
battle  in  any  numbers.  Here  nothing 
but  the  most  tried  valor  could  prevail 
against  them.  Colonel  Taylor's  loss 
was  very  heavy,  both  in  officers,  as  was 
usual  in  this  war,  and  in  men.    In  his 


dispatch,  he  stops  to  express  his  feeling 
for  the  wounded.  "  Here,"  says  he,  "  I 
trust  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  that  I 
experienced  one  of  the  most  trying 
scenes  of  my  life,  and  he  who  could 
have  looked  on  it  with  indifference,  his 
nerves  must  have  been  differently  or- 
ganized from  my  own." 

His  management  of  this  affair  and 
general  efficiency  in  the  campaign  were 
rewarded  with  the  brevet  rank  of  bri- 
gadier-general, and  shortly  after  vnth 
the  chief  command  in  the  State,  which 
he  held  till  the  arrival  of  General 
Macomb.  General  Taylor's  plan  was  to 
divide  the  whole  region  into  a  series  of 
military  districts,  each  presided  over  by 
a  fort  or  stockade,  whence  the  troops 
might  take  the  aggressive  on  occasion. 
He  was  employed  in  Florida  two  years 
later  till  1840,  when  he  was  assigned  to 
the  command  of  the  southwestern  divi- 
sion of  the  army,  and  had  his  head- 
quarters at  Fort  Jesup,  Louisiana.  This 
brought  him  within  the  line  of  employ- 
ment in  Texas,  when,  on  the  annexation 
of  that  country  to  the  United  States,  it 
became  necessary  to  protect  her  west- 
ern frontier  from  Mexican  invasion. 
He  was  consequently  ordered  to  the 
district  in  June,  1845,  and  immediately 
established  his  headquarters  at  Corpus 
Christi,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Nueces, 
at  its  mouth.  There  the  "  army  of  ob- 
servation" gradually  augmented,  with 
the  progress  of  war  alarms,  to  a  force 
of  nearly  four  thousand  men,  the  "  army 
of  occupation,"  remained  many  months, 
till  March  of  the  following  year,  when 
its  commander  received  directions  to 
advance  to  the  ultimate  boundary,  the 
Rio  Grande.    The  march  of  seventeen 


234 


ZACHART  TAYLOR. 


days  was  made  across  tlie  intervening 
desert,  meeting  with  no  opposition  of 
consequence  up  to  the  time  of  arrival  at 
the  point  of  the  river  opposite  Mata- 
moras,  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  the 
month.  A  flag-staff  was  immediately 
erected  on  the  spot,  and  the  American 
ensign  raised,  as  the  bands  played  the 
national  airs  "  Yankee  Doodle "  and 
"The  Star-spangled  Banner."  This  vi- 
cinity was  destined  to  be  the  scene  of 
several  formidable  conflicts.  We  shall 
not  trench  upon  the  province  of  history 
to  pursue  the  movements  here  with  any 
great  minuteness ;  but  shall  touch  light- 
ly upon  the  main  incidents  of  the  cam- 
paign, which  leads  us  over  the  battle- 
fields of  Palo  Alto,  Resaca  de  la  Palma, 
to  the  storming  of  Monterey  and  the 
great  struggle  at  Buena  Vista. 

The  place  at  which  the  army  first 
rested  was  within  sight  of  the  enemy's 
headquarters  at  Matamoras,  separated 
only  by  the  intervening  river.  There 
having  taken  his  station,  and,  as  he  told 
the  Mexican  authorities,  in  accordance 
with  the  instructions  of  his  government, 
being  determined  to  remain,  the  first 
employment  of  General  Taylor,  of 
course,  was  to  provide  some  adequate 
defences — the  more  as  he  was  in  face 
of  a  considerable  body  of  the  foe,  to 
whom  large  reinforcements,  commanded 
by  experienced  generals,  were  already 
on  the  way,  and  war  was  no  longer  a 
matter  of  uncertainty.  A  camp  was 
established,  and  the  extensive  work, 
Fort  Brown,  on  the  bank  of  the  river, 
commanding  the  opposite  town,  com- 
menced. Point  Isabel,  a  day's  march 
distant  in  the  rear,  on  the  coast,  the 
first  harbor  to  the  north  of  the  Rio 


Grande,  was  the  depot  for  supplies. 
General  Taylor  in  his  advance  had 
taken  possession  of  this  place,  and  left 
a  small  garrison  for  its  protection.  On 
the  twelfth  of  April,  General  Ampudia, 
having  arrived  at  Matamoras  with  rein- 
forcements, and  taken  the  command, 
addressed  a  communication  to  General 
Taylor,  requiring  him  within  twenty- 
four  hours  to  retire  to  the  Nueces  while 
the  Texas  question  was  under  discus- 
sion between  the  two  governments,  or 
accept  the  alternative  of  a  resort  to 
arms.  To  this  the  American  com- 
mander replied,  that  he  had  been  or- 
dered to  occupy  the  country  to  the  left 
bank  of  the  Bio  Grande  till  the  boun- 
dary should  be  definitely  settled  ;  that 
in  discharging  this  duty,  he  had  care- 
fully abstained  from  all  acts  of  hostility, 
and  that  the  instructions  under  which 
he  was  acting  would  not  permit  him  to 
retrograde  from  the  position  he  occu- 
pied ;  and  as  for  war,  while  he  regretted 
the  alternative,  he  should  not  avoid  it, 
but  "  leave  the  responsibility  with  those 
who  rashly  commence  hostilities." 

After  this  the  military  proceedings 
thickened  apace.  The  right  bank  of  the 
river,  above  and  below  the  camp, 
swarmed  with  the  irregular  troops  of 
the  enemy.  Colonel  Trueman  Cross,  as- 
sistant quartermaster-general,  already, 
on  the  tenth,  had  been  murdered,  as  he 
was  taking  his  usual  ride  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  camp.  On  the  twenty- 
fourth  a  communication  came  from  Gen- 
eral Arista,  who  had  succeeded  Ampudia 
in  the  command,  conveying  a  further 
declaration  of  hostilities ;  and  simulta- 
neously word  reached  the  camp  of  the 
crossing  of  the  enemy  in  considerable 


ZAOHARY  TAYLOR. 


235 


numbers.  Captmn  Thornton,  sent  above 
to  reconnoitre,  was  surprised  in  a  plan- 
tation inclosure,  and  his  little  force  cap- 
tured. Below,  Point  Isabel  was  in  dan- 
ger of  being  cut  olf,  an  obvious  move- 
ment of  the  enemy,  which  required  all 
the  vigilance  of  General  Taylor  to  coun- 
teract. Leaving,  accordingly,  a  sufficient 
garrison  for  the  defence  of  Fort  Brown, 
he  set  out,  on  the  first  of  May,  with  the 
main  body  of  his  troops,  for  the  relief 
of  that  important  station.  He  arrived 
at  the  place  without  interruption,  ac- 
complished his  purpose  in  adding  to  its 
strength,  and,  on  the  seventh,  invited 
by  the  signal  guns  of  Fort  Brown, 
which  was  suffering  a  bombardment, 
began  his  return,  with  about  twenty- 
two  hundred  men,  bringing  with  him 
two  eighteen-pounders,  in  addition  to 
the  artillery  he  had  taken  with  him, 
and  a  large  train  of  wagons.  About 
noon  on  the  following  day,  the  Mexican 
troops  were  reported  in  front,  and  were 
soon  found  occupying  the  road,  on  an 
open  prairie  skirted  by  a  growth  of 
chaparral. 

This  was  the  field  of  Palo  Alto, 
so  named  from  the  thickets  rising 
above  the  general  level.  The  Mexi- 
cans, six  thousand  in  number,  com- 
manded by  General  Arista,  were  drawn 
up  in  a  single  line,  "  artillery,  infantry 
and  cavalry  placed  alternately,  forming 
a  living  wall  more  than  a  mile  in  ex- 
tent, of  physical  strength,  of  steel  and 
latent  fire,"  ^  The  American  force  was 
disposed  by  General  Taylor  with  less 
regularity,  but  mostly  in.  a  parallel  out- 
line.   The  right  wing,  comprising  the 


'  Thorpe's  "  Our  Army  on  the  Eio  Grande,"  p.  Y4. 


larger  part  of  the  force,  including  Ring- 
gold's artillery  and  the  eighteen-pound- 
ers, was  under  the  orders  of  Colonel 
Twiggs;  the  left  was  commanded  by 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Belknap.  The  train 
was  protected  by  a  squadron  of  dra- 
goons in  the  rear.  Having  made  these 
arrangements.  General  Taylor  coolly 
directed  the  men  to  stack  their  arms, 
march  in  companies,  and  supply  them- 
selves with  the  fresh  water  of  the  ad- 
joining ponds  in  place  of  the  brackish 
water  with  which  they  had  been  fur- 
nished at  Point  Isabel.  The  columns 
then  advanced,  when  the  engagement 
was  commenced,  shortly  after  two  in 
the  afternoon,  by  the  Mexican  batte- 
ries. This  fire  was  promptly  met  by 
the  whole  American  artillery,  the  eight- 
een-pounders, drawn  up  in  the  road, 
and  Ringgold's  pieces  doing  eminent 
execution.  An  important  movement 
of  the  enemy's  cavalry,  fifteen  hundred 
strong,  led  by  General  Torrejon,  on  the 
right,  threatening  the  flank,  was  de- 
feated by  the  fifth  infantry,  the  flying 
artillery  and  Captain  Walker's  Texan 
volunteers.  While  this  was  proceeding, 
the  dry  grass  of  the  prairie  took  fire 
and  swept  a  volume  of  smoke  over  the 
field,  partially  concealing  the  armies 
from  one  another.  Under  cover  of  this 
obscuration,  the  line  of  the  enemy, 
which  had  suffered  from  the  artillery, 
was  reformed  in  the  rear  of  its  first 
position,  and  the  American  correspond- 
ingly advanced.  After  a  pause  of 
about  an  hour,  the  fire  was  reopened, 
the  action  being  confined  chiefly  to  the 
artillery  on  both  sides.  The  superi- 
ority of  the  American  fire  was  un- 
doubted ;  but  it  was  dearly  purchased, 


236  ZACHARY 

by  the  loss  of  the  gallant  Major  King- 
gold,  wliose  name  is  identified  with  this 
efi^ective  arm  of  the  service.  The  day- 
closed  with  a  brilliant  attack  from  the 
enemy's  right,  which  was  met  with 
great  spirit  by  Captain  Duncan's  artil- 
lery. In  the  darkness  of  the  evening 
the  enemy  retired  to  a  new  position, 
and  the  wearied  Americans  slept  on 
their  battle-field,  their  general  spreading 
his  blanket  on  the  grass  in  the  midst  of 
the  troops.  The  loss  of  the  Mexicans 
was  much  heavier  than  that  of  our  own 
forces;  the  commander  of  the  former 
reporting  two  hundred  and  fifty-two 
killed,  wounded  and  missing,  while 
General  Taylor's  dispatch  numbers  only 
seven  killed,  including  three  officers, 
and  thirty-nine  wounded — an  apparent- 
ly small  number  of  either  army,  consi- 
dering the  strength  on  both  sides  of 
the  artillery  and  the  skill  with  which 
it  was  served  on  a  level  plain. 

The  next  day  brought  the  battle  of 
Resaca  de  la  Palma.  Early  in  the 
morning  the  enemy  had  retired  toward 
Matamoras,  to  a  strong  position  at  a 
ravine,  crossed  by  the  road  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  thick  growth  of  chaparral. 
The  approach  on  the  highway  was  de- 
fended by  a  strongly  posted  force  of  ar- 
tillery. Thither  the  foe  were  pursued  by 
General  Taylor,  who,  spite  of  the  supe- 
riority of  numbers  confronting  him,  ex- 
pressed his  determination  to  be  at  Fort 
Brown  before  night.  Having  provided 
for  the  safety  of  the  supply-train,  he 
commenced  the  attack  about  three  in 
the  afternoon,  by  advancing  a  large 
body  of  skirmishers  and  the  battery 
of  Lieutenant  Ridgely.  The  latter  took 
up  a  position  on  the  road.    Owing  to 


TAYLOR. 

the  nature  of  the  ground,  the  engage- 
ment which  ensued  was  of  an  entirely 
different  character  from  that  of  the 
preceding  day.    The  enemy  were  shel- 
tered by  the  ravine  on  both  its  sides. 
The  growth  in  front,  beside  the  pro- 
tection of  the  rising  ground,  impeded 
the  free  play  of  the  American  artil- 
lery.   As  the   enemy's  cannon  com- 
manded the  only  accessible  approach 
by  the  road,  it  became  evident  to  Gen- 
eral Taylor,  after  sending  forward  his 
infantry,  that  however  the  latter  might 
discharge  their  duty — and  they  did 
make,  in  his  own  language,  "  resistless 
progress" — ^nothing  decisive  could  be 
accomplished  till  that  fire  was  silenced. 
He  consequently  sent  to  the  rear  for 
the  gallant  Captain  May  and  his  dra- 
goons, and  committed  to  them  the  work. 
"You  must  charge  the  enemies'  batte- 
ries, and  take  them,"  was  the  general's 
language.     "  I  will  do  it,"  was  May's 
response.    And,  ardent  as  the  onset  of 
the  six  hundred  at  Balaclava,  "  into  the 
jaws  of  death,"  but  not  so  purposeless, 
sped  the  brave  captain  and  his  troop. 
Waiting  a  few  moments  for  Kidgely  at 
his  battery,  three  hundred  yards  dis- 
tant, to  draw  the  fire  of  the  enemy's 
artillery,  he  galloped  furiously  over  the 
road,  followed  by  his  company,  to  re- 
ceive the  fire  of  the  inner  battery,  which 
levelled  at  one  discharge  eighteen  horses 
and  seven  men  of  his  troop,  Lieutenant 
Inge,  one  of  the  number,  at  his  side. 
But  the  battery  was  swept  of  its  de- 
fenders ;  and  though  May,  unsupported 
by  infantry,  exposed  as  he  was  to  a 
shower  of  grape  and  musketry,  was 
compelled  to  retire,  he  fought  his  way 
out  of  the  mass  of  the  foe,  bringing 


ZACHARY  TAYLOR. 


237 


with  liiin  to  the  camp  an  eminent 
prisoner  of  war,  General  La  Vega,  a 
brave  officer,  whom  he  had  found  the 
last  at  tlie  guns,  rallying  his  flying  sol- 
diers to  their  duty.  Infantry  were 
meanwhile  ordered  up,  and  the  advant- 
age of  the  charge  secured  in  driving  the 
enemy  from  their  artillery  on  the  left. 
On  the  right  a  breastwork  was  stormed, 
its  gun  taken,  and  other  successes  achiev- 
ed, completing  the  rout  in  this  quarter, 
including  the  capture  of  the  general's 
camp,  with  all  his  official  correspond- 
ence. The  artillery  battalion  left  to 
guard  the  train,  with  other  forces,  were 
now  ordered  in  pursuit,  and  the  flying 
army  was  driven  to  the  river,  where 
many  perished  in  the  attempt  to  escape. 
"  In  the  camp  of  the  army,"  says  an  in- 
teresting narrator  of  these  scenes,  "  were 
found  the  preparations  for  a  great  festi- 
val, no  doubt  to  follow  the  expected 
victory.  The  camp-kettles  were  sim- 
mering over  the  fires,  filled  with  savory 
viands,  off  of  which  our  troops  made  a 
plentiful  evening  meal.  In  the  road 
were  carcasses  of  half-skinned  oxen. 
The  hangers-on  of  the  camp,  while  the 
battle  was  raging,  were  busy  in  their 
feast-preparing  work,  unconscious  of 
dangers,  when,  on  an  instant,  a  sudden 
panic  must  have  seized  them,  and  they 
fled,  leaving  their  half-completed  la- 
bors to  be  consummated  by  our  own 
troops."  ^ 

Seventeen  hundred  was  the  number 
of  General  Taylor's  force  engaged  with 
the  Mexicans.  His  loss  was  three  offi- 
cers, Lieutenants  Inge,  Cochrane  and 
Chadbourne,  and  thirty-six  men  killed ; 


*  Thorpe's  "Our  Army  on  the  Rio  Grande,"  p.  104. 

n.— 30 


twelve  officers  and  seventy  men  wound- 
ed. General  Taylor,  in  his  dispatch, 
estimated  the  Mexican  loss,  killed, 
wounded  and  missing,  during  the  two 
days,  at  not  less  than  one  thousand 
men.  In  a  dispatch  from  the  field  that 
night,  he  wrote  with  characteristic  sim- 
plicity :  "  The  affair  of  to-day  may  be 
regarded  as  a  proper  supplement  to  the 
cannonade  of  yesterday ;  and  the  two 
taken  together  exhibit  the  coolness  and 
gallantry  of  our  officers  and  men  in  the 
most  favorable  light.  All  have  done 
their  duty,  and  done  it  nobly."  A  few 
days,  in  a  fuller  report,  he  added: 
"  Our  victory  has  been  decisive.  A 
small  force  has  overcome  immense  odds 
of  the  best  troops  that  Mexico  can 
furnish — ^veteran  regiments,  perfectly 
equipped  and  appointed.  Eight  pieces 
of  artillery,  several  colors  and  stand- 
ards, a  great  number  of  prisoners,  in- 
cluding fourteen  officers,  and  a  large 
amount  of  baggage  and  public  property, 
have  fallen  into  our  hands." 

This  decided  success  established  the 
fortunes  of  General  Taylor's  Mexican 
campaign.  Everything  had  been  put 
to  the  hazard,  and  everything  gained. 
The  force  which  he  commanded,  large 
enough  for  resistance,  too  small,  appa- 
rently, for  conquest,  invited  the  attack 
of  the  superior  hosts.  Victory  ap- 
peared an  easy  matter  to  the  Mexican 
general,  who  had  the  choice  of  the 
ground,  and  who  was  enabled  to  divide 
the  little  American  army  between  the 
field  and  the  fort.  His  supplies  were 
at  hand  in  a  considerable  city  with  a 
chain  of  towns  in  its  rear,  reaching  into 
the  heart  of  the  country.  He  had  made 
every  calculation  for  success.   While  he 


238 


ZACHAUT  TAYLOR. 


was  attacking  the  Americans  on  their 
march,  by  a  well-planned  military  move- 
ment, the  batteries  of  Matamoras  were 
at  work  on  Fort  Brown.  One  thing 
only  was  wanting  to  his  forces,  the  des- 
perate courage  for  an  assault.  K  this 
nerve  of  the  bayonet  had  been  supplied, 
Arista  might,  with  his  numbers  and 
resources,  have  done  with  ease  what 
Jackson  and  his  defenders  at  New  Or- 
leans so  bravely  accomplished,  and 
swept  his  enemies  into  the  sea.  But 
he  had  other  stuff  in  his  ranks. 

If  the  Mexicans  at  the  outset  were 
naturally  confident  of  success,  the  Ame- 
ricans at  home  trembled  for  the  fate  of 
General  Taylor's  expedition,  and  the 
moral  effect  of  his  victory,  in  the  same 
proportion,  disheartened  the  one  and 
elevated  the  other.  The  brave  troops 
on  the  Kio  Grande,  it  was  felt,  had  re- 
paired the  over  confidence  of  the  ad- 
ministration at  Washington.  General 
Taylor  had  achieved  not  only  a  military 
success,  but  he  had  rescued  the  country 
from  the  risk  of  disgrace.  Nothing 
could  have  been  better  contrived  than 
the  unintentional  conduct  of  the  go- 
vernment, for  the  creation  of  a  hero. 
The  American  general  was  placed  in  a 
position  where  the  greatest  glory  was 
to  be  reached  with  the  smallest  com- 
mand. 

The  Mexican  army  was  completely 
disorganized  at  Matamoras.  Their  can- 
nonading of  Fort  Brown  had  ceased 
with  the  defeat  of  their  army,  and  little 
was  to  be  thought  of  but  surrender. 
General  Taylor  was  soon  on  hand  to 
hasten  the  movement.  After  the  duty 
to  the  dead  and  wounded  had  been 
performed,  he  proceeded  to  Point  Isa- 


bel to  confer  with  Commodore  Conner, 
who  had  brought  up  his  fleet  to  the 
assistance  of  the  imperilled  little  army. 
The  story  is,  that  the  etiquette  of  this 
meeting  severely  taxed  the  resources  of 
the  brave  general's  wardrobe.  Long 
accustomed  to  frontier  warfare  and  pro- 
tracted Indian  campaigns,  where  there 
was  more  rough  labor  to  be  performed 
than  military  pomp  to  be  indulged.  Old 
Zach,  as  he  was  affectionately  and  fami- 
liarly called,  had  adapted  his  dress  to 
the  exigency  of  the  climate  and  service. 
His  linen  roundabout  was  far  better 
known  in  the  camp  than  his  uniform. 
Thinking,  however,  that  something  was 
due  from  the  commander-in-chief  of  the 
army  to  the  head  of  the  navy,  who  was 
understood  to  be  punctilious  in  dress, 
he  painfully  arrayed  himself  in  the  re- 
gulation coat,  fished  from  the  depths  of 
his  chest;  while  the  gallant  commodore, 
knowing  the  habits  of  the  general,  in 
an  equally  generous  spirit  of  concession, 
clothed  himself  for  the  interview  in  a 
simple  suit  of  drilling.    After  this,  it 
is  said.  Old  Zach  returned  more  sedu- 
lously than  ever  to  his  wonted  simpli- 
city of  attire.    All  his  habits,  indeed, 
partook  of  the  same  plain  convenience. 
Hardy  and  unostentatious  in  his  mode 
of  living,  he  was  accustomed  to  the 
rough  fare  of  the  camp  and  an  unpre- 
tending tent  sufficed  for  the  dignity  of 
his  headquarters. 

The  proper  arrangements  having  been 
made  at  Point  Isabel,  General  Taylor 
hastened  again  to  the  camp  over  a  road 
no  longer  interrupted  by  Arista  and  his 
host.  His  next  movement  was  to  talce 
possession  of  Matamoras,  peaceably  if 
he  could,  forcibly  if  he  must.  Upon 


ZACHARY  TAYLOR. 


239 


his  making  his  preparations  for  the 
hitter,  the  discreet  course  appeared 
preferable  to  the  Mexicans,  and  the 
town  was  given  up,  on  the  eighteenth 
of  the  month,  to  the  army  of  occupa- 
tion. Ai'ista  had  fled,  with  such  of  his 
troops  as  were  in  a  condition  to  travel, 
leaving  the  place  to  the  hostilities  of 
the  Americans,  which  proved  much 
kinder  than  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
defenders. 

The  summer  was  passed  by  General 
Taylor  at  Matamoras,  receiving  the 
recruits,  who,  summoned  by  the  first 
signal  of  danger,  were  now  pouring  to 
the  Rio  Grande.  The  means  of  ad- 
vance had  also  to  be  collected,  and  the 
force  organized  to  pursue  the  enemy  in 
the  interior.  Monterey  to  the  west,  at 
the  foot  of  the  Sierra  Madre,  where 
General  Ampudia,  who  had  succeeded 
Arista  in  the  command,  had  established 
himself  with  a  considerable  body  of 
troops,  was  the  first  object  of  attack. 
Sending  forward  his  forces  by  the  Rio 
Grande  to  Camargo,  Geiieral  Taylor 
thence  pursued  his  way  across  the 
desert,  reaching  the  San  Juan,  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  Monterey, 
on  the  nineteenth  of  September.  From 
that  moment  the  brave  and  toilsome 
operations  of  the  attack,  which  was  con- 
tinued for  five  days,  may  be  said  to  have 
commenced.  The  town,  thoroughly  ca- 
pable of  defence,  was  manned  by  a  gar- 
rison of  ten  thousand  men,  more  than 
two-thirds  of  whom  were  regular  troops, 
with  a  defence  of  forty-two  pieces  of 
cannon ;  its  outworks  were  important, 
and  the  most  extensive  preparations  of 
barricades  and  batteries  were  made 
within.    The  entire  force  General  Tay- 


lor brought  against  it,  numbered  six 
thousand,  six  hundred  and  seventy-five. 
He  had  no  siege  train,  which  might  be 
thought  indispensable  to  the  work  he 
was  about  to  undertake,  and  an  artillery 
force  of  only  one  ten-inch  mortar,  two 
twenty-four  pounder  howitzers,  and 
four  light  field  batteries  of  four  guns 
each. 

The  first  observation  of  the  town 
convinced  General  Taylor  that  it 
might  be  turned  on  its  westerly  side, 
where  the  only  means  of  escape  to  its 
occupants  lay  in  the  road  to  Saltillo. 
There  were  important  detached  works 
on  that  side,  but  the  main  defences 
were  in  the  citadel  on  the  north,  the 
river  and  a  series  of  redoubts  on  the 
southerly  and  easterly  approaches.  The 
reconnaisance  was  made  after  General 
Taylor's  arrival  on  the  nineteenth  ;  on 
the  twentieth,  General  Worth  moved 
with  his  command  toward  the  Saltillo 
road  to  carry  out  the  plan  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief. The  latter  himself 
directed  the  proceedings  on  the  east. 
The  main  points,  and  they  were  highly 
important  ones,  accomplished  by  Gene- 
ral Worth  on  that  day  of  hard  fighting, 
the  twenty-first,  were  the  occupation 
of  the  road,  and  the  storming  of  the 
works  at  the  heights,  adjacent  to  the 
city  on  the  west.  Turning  to  General 
Taylor's  special  command,  we  find  him 
at  the  same  time  directing  an  attack 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  town,  which 
was  conducted  with  such  gallantry,  in 
the  face  of  a  murderous  cross-fire  from 
the  forts,  that  the  streets  of  the  city 
were  gained,  and  the  roof  of  one  of  its 
buildings  taken  advantage  of  to  assail 
vdth  musketry  the  defenders  of  the 


240  ZACHARY 

fort  commanding  this  approacli,  whicli 
was  also  attacked  from  tlie  outer  side. 
Under  tliis  combination  the  fort  fell. 
It  was  the  important  success  of  the 
day. 

In   General  Taylor's   words,  "the 
main  object  proposed  in  the  morning 
had  been  effected.    A  powerful  diver- 
sion had  been  made  to  favor  the  opera- 
tions of  the  second  division  (General 
Worth's) ;  one  of  the  enemy's  advanced 
works  had  been  carried,  and  we  now 
had  a  strong  foothold  in  the  town." 
The  loss  in  achieving  this  result,  may 
indicate  the  gallantry  with  which  it 
was  accomplished.   The  number  killed 
and  wounded,  in  these  operations  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  city  that  day,  was 
three  hundred  and  ninety-four.  The 
next,  the  twenty-second,  saw  the  com- 
pletion of  General  Worth's  design  in 
the  capture  of  the  Bishop's  Palace  on 
Independence  Hill,  that  work  being 
commanded  by  the  position  he  had 
stormed  the  day  before.    General  Tay- 
lor employed  the  day  in  relieving  his 
troops  who  had  passed  the  night  on 
the  lower  side  of  the  town,  and  main- 
taining his  advantages  in  that  quarter. 
It  was  now  evident  that  the  city,  being 
commanded  from  either  end,  must  in 
due  time  surrender.   The  military  event 
of  the  twenty-third,  the  third  great 
day  of  the  siege,  was  the  advance  into 
the  town  of  the  volunteers  under  Gen- 
erals Quitman   and  Henderson,  sup- 
ported by  Captain   Bragg's  battery. 
From  house  to  house,  from  square  to 
square,  the  advance  against  the  strong 
barriers  was  gained  by  musketry  from 
the  roofs,  by  grape-shot  in  the  streets, 
to  a  position  but  a  single  square  dis- 


TAYLOR. 

tant  from  the  principal  plaza,  where 
the  enemy's  force  was  mainly  concen- 
trated. 

A  similar  advance  was   made  into 
the  city  from  the    opposite  side  by 
General  Worth.    The  work  of  the  next 
day,  had  it  been  necessary  to  continue 
the  assault,  would  have  been  a  last, 
short,  bloody,  decisive  struggle.  For- 
tunately, it  was  spared  by  a  capitula- 
tion.   The  outcries  of  the  townspeople, 
no  less  than  the  necessities  of  the  gar- 
rison, compelled   the  surrender.  On 
the  morning  of  the  twenty-fourth,  a 
communication  was  received  by  Gene- 
ral Taylor  from   General  Ampudia, 
stating  that  having  made  the  defence 
of  which  he  thought  the  city  suscepti- 
ble, he  had  "fulfilled  his  duty,  and 
satisfied  that  military  honor  which,  in 
a  certain  manner,  is  common  to  all 
armies  of  the   civilized  world."  To 
continue  the  defence,  he  said,  would 
only  be  further  to  distress  the  pop- 
ulation which   had   suffered  enough 
already:   he;   therefore,   proposed  to 
evacuate  the  city  and  fort,  carrying 
with  him  the  personnel  and  materiel  of 
war.    In  answer  to  this,  a  complete 
surrender  of  the  town  and  garrison  as 
prisoners  of  war  was  demanded;  but 
such  surrender,  it  was  added,  would  be 
upon  terms  recognizing  by  their  libe- 
rality "  the  gallant  defence  of  the  place, 
creditable  alike  to  the  Mexican  troops 
and  nation."    The  hour  of  twelve  was 
appointed  to  determine  the  question. 
At  that  time  the  two  chiefs  met  to 
arrange  the  terms  of  surrender.  Gen- 
eral Ampudia,  not  satisfied  with  the 
proposition  offered,  insisted  upon  his 
original  conditions;  and  General  Tay- 


ZACHARY 

lor,  Avlio  had  made  up  his  mind,  was  in 
consequence  on  the  point  of  breaking 
up  the  conference,  when  a  suggestion 
was  offered  and  reluctantly  accepted 
"by  him,  to  refer  the  negotiation  to  a 
body  of  commissioners  on  both  sides. 
General  Worth,  General  Henderson, 
and  Colonel  Jefferson  Davis  acted  for 
the  Americans.  With  some  difficulty 
the  terms  were  arranged.  The  town 
and  citadel,  with  the  arms  and  muni- 
tions of  war  were  surrendered,  the 
Mexican  forces  to  retire — the  officers 
with  their  side  arms,  the  cavalry  with 
their  arms  and  accoutrements,  the  artil- 
lery with  one  field  battery — within 
seven  days  beyond  the  line  formed  by 
the  pass  of  Linconada,  the  city  of 
Linares  and  San  Fernando  de  Preras ; 
and  an  armistice  of  eight  weeks  to  be 
entered  upon.  The  Mexican  flag,  when 
struck  at  the  citadel,  was  to  be  saluted 
by  its  own  battery.  That  ceremony 
was  performed  on  the  morning  of  the 
twenty-fifth.  The  American  flag  was 
unfolded,  and  the  Mexican  troops  took 
their  departure.  It  was  a  brilliant  suc- 
cess in  the  taking  of  a  town.  Its  cost, 
as  summed  up  by  General  Taylor  in 
his  dispatch,  was  twelve  officers  and 
one  hundred  and  eight  men  killed; 
thirty-one  officers  and  three  hundred 
and  thirty-seven  men  wounded. 

It  was  thought  by  the  government 
at  Washington  that  too  favorable  terms 
had  been  allowed  the  enemy  in  the 
capitulation,  that  their  surrender  should 
have  been  unconditional,  and  that  the 
armistice  should  not  have  been  granted. 
But  those  who  made  the  negotiation 
were  governed  by  sound  motives,  both 
of  policy  and  humanity.    They  might, 


TAYLOR.  241 

indeed,  have  completed  the  conquest  at 
the  plaza  and  taken  the  citadel ;  but  it 
would  have  been  at  an  enormous  cost 
of  life,  both  to  victors  and  vanquished ; 
much  property  would  have  been  de- 
stroyed which  was  saved  by  the  nego- 
tiation ;  nor  had  General  Taylor  a  force 
sufficient  to  guard  all  the  avenues  of 
escape  to  so  great  a  body  of  men. 
Moreover,  the  prospect  of  peace  was 
urged  by  the  Mexican  General  in  con- 
sequence of  the  return  of  Santa  Anna, 
which  had  been  more  than  winked  at, 
with  this  view,  by  the  American  gov- 
ernment itself,  which  had  indeed  pre- 
viously proffered  peace  negotiations. 
As  for  the  armistice,  the  little  army  at 
Monterey  was  at  any  rate  unable  to 
move  for  some  time,  until  reinforce- 
ments should  arrive,  upon  any  furthei 
considerable  expedition  into  the  inte- 
rior. It  had  but  ten  days'  rations  at 
the  time  of  the  capitulation,  and  had 
been  all  along  deficient  in  wagons.  So 
that,  on  many  grounds,  the  negotiation 
of  General  Taylor  was  to  be  justified. 

These  military  successes,  however 
brilliant  as  they  were,  were  unproduc- 
tive of  the  desirable  result  of  "con- 
quering a  peace"  from  the  enemy. 
The  very  humiliation  which  they  in- 
flicted, only  roused  the  spirit  of  the 
country  to  greater  resistance,  and  what- 
ever peace  intentions  General  Santa 
Anna,  now  placed  at  the  head  of 
affairs,  had  when  he  landed  at  Vera 
Cruz,  he  was  clearly  unable  to  carry 
them  out  while  the  Americans  were 
thus  constantly  victorious.  For  the 
purposes  of  the  war,  it  might  have 
been  good  policy  of  the  invaders  to 
have  suffered  a  defeat,  to  humor  na- 


243  ZACnARY 

tional  pride,  and  smooth  tlie  way  to 
negotiation  and  concession.  Defeat 
was  not,  liowever,  a  word  to  be  found 
in  the  military  vocabulary  of  Old  Zach. 
He  had  an  indomitable,  unreasoning 
soldier's  logic,  which  led  him  by  a  very 
short  path  to  one  single  conclusion,  that 
victory  was  the  business  of  war;  and 
well  or  ill  provided  with  such  resources 
as  he  had,  in  the  face  of  whatever 
obstacles  might  be  in  the  way,  he  went 
straight  forward  to  that  result.  He 
made  no  noisy  demonstrations,  but 
took  his  ground  boldly  and  fought  to 
the  end.  His  last  battle  was  to  crown 
the  whole. 

The  circumstances  under  which  the 
engagement  at  Buena  Vista  was  fought, 
render  it  the  most  memorable  of  the 
whole  campaign.  The  government  at 
Washino-ton  havins;  come  to  the  con- 
elusion  that  their  system  of  border 
attack,  however  well  pursued,  would 
not  end  the  war,  determined  to  strike 
at  the  heart  of  the  country,  its  capital, 
by  its  great  avenue  of  approach,  the 
line  of  Vera  Cruz.  In  the  month  of 
November,  General  Scott  was  ordered 
to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  take  such 
measures,  as  in  his  judgment  he  might 
think  proper,  to  carry  the  resolution 
into  eifect.  General  Taylor,  in  this 
arrangement,  was  to  be  left  on  the  Rio 
Grande,  with  a  force  barely  sufficient 
to  maintain  a  defensive  position,  while 
he  yielded  to  Scott,  for  his  more  bril- 
liant service,  the  best  part  of  his  troops, 
the  tried  regulars  who  had  fought  with 
him  from  Corpus  Christi  along  the  line 
of  battles  to  Monterey.  General  Scott 
arrived  at  the  Rio  Grande  about  the 
first  of  January,  IS^*?,  and  began  to 


TAYLOR. 

collect  the  forces  for  his  expedition. 
The  important   divisions  of  General 
Worth,  Twiggs,  Quitman,  and  other 
choice  troops,  artillery  and  volunteers, 
were  stripped  from  General  Taylor's 
command,  and  his  plan  of  operations  at 
Victoria   and  other  advanced  places 
in   the  interior  entirely  broken  up. 
Nothing  further  was  expected  of  him 
than  to  defend  himself  at  Monterey, 
should  Santa  Anna,  who  was  in  great 
force  at  San  Luis  Potosi,  extend  his 
movements  in  that   direction.  The 
Mexican   General,  who  had  become 
aware  of  the  plans  of  his  foe  by  an 
intercepted  dispatch,  was  thought  more 
likely  to  turn  his   attention  to  the 
intended  landing  at  Vera  Cruz.  He 
determined,  however,  to  strike  a  blow 
with  his  large  army,  which  seemed 
quite  sufficient  to  sweep  every  Ameri- 
can from  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rio 
Grande.    He  accordingly  marched  with 
his  twenty  thousand  men  toward  the 
position,  in  the  vicinity  of  Saltillo,  of 
General  Taylor  and  his  bands  of  volun- 
teers. 

Among  the  latter  was  the  new 
and  important  command  of  General 
Wool,  which  had  just  reached  the 
scene  of  action  from  an  overland  march 
through  Texas.  To  this  officer  belongs 
the  credit  of  the  selection  of  the  pass 
where  the  Americans  so  well  defended 
themselves:  it  was  his  fortune,  being 
left  in  command  at.  the  point,  to  open 
the  battle ;  and  to  him  were  specially 
entrusted  some  of  the  most  important 
movements  of  the  day.  It  was  an 
admirably  chosen  ground  for  defence, 
a  narrow  valley  enclosed  on  either 
hand  by  lofty  mountains,  with  seamed 


and  broken  gi-onnd,  with  tlie  passage 
on  tlie  road  additionally  protected  by 
a  rirer  course  and  deep  ravine  at  its  side. 
The  best  naturally  guarded  ground  of 
the  whole,  where  the  mountain  on  one 
side  and  the  ravine  on  the  other  ap- 
proached nearest  each  other,  the  Pass 
of  Angostura,  was  that  taken  for  the 
American  stand.  There,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  twenty-second  of  February, 
"Washington's  birthday,  as  the  enemy 
made  his  appearance,  the  road  was 
defended  by  a  battery  of  eight  guns, 
supported  on  either  hand  by  companies 
of  infantry.  The  remaining  troops 
were  placed,  in  advantageous  positions, 
on  a  plateau  and  amidst  the  ravines, 
across  the  whole  breadth  of  the  valley. 
These  dispositions  were  made  by  Gene- 
ral Wool,  General  Taylor  having  been 
dui'ing  the  night  at  Saltillo,  to  provide 
against  a  threatened  attack  in  that 
quarter.  He  presently  came  up,  bring- 
ing with  him  additional  troops,  and 
assumed  the  command. 

At  eleven  o'clock,  a  summons  was 
received  from  Santa  Anna  to  surrender. 
"You  are  surrounded,"  was  the  lan- 
guage of  this  communication,  "by 
twenty  thousand  men,  and  cannot,  in 
any  human  probability,  avoid  suffering 
a  rout  and  being  cut  to  pieces  with 
your  troops;  but  as  you  deserve  con- 
sideration and  particular  esteem,  I  wish 
to  save  you  from  a  catastrophe,  and  for 
that  purpose  give  you  this  notice,  in 
order  that  you  may  surrender  at  dis- 
cretion, under  the  assurance  that  you 
will  be  treated  with  the  consideration 
belonging  to  the  Mexican  character,  to 
which  end  you  will  be  granted  an 
houi^'s  time  to  make  up  your  mind,  to 


TAYLOR.  243 

commence  from  the  moment  when  my 
flag  of  truce  arrives  in  your  camp ;"  to 
all  which  considerate  attention,  Za- 
chary  Taylor  sent  the  following  brief 
sentence — "  Sir :  In  reply  to  your  note 
of  this  date,  summoning  me  to  sur- 
render my  forces  at  discretion,  I  beg 
leave  to  say  that  I  decline  acceding  to 
your  request."  So  the  battle  was  in- 
augurated. There  was  some  skirmish- 
ing in  the  afternoon,  as  the  Mexicans 
felt  their  way  preparatory  to  the  action 
of  the  twenty-third.  General  Taylor 
again  passed  the  night  at  Saltillo,  his 
presence  there  being  necessary  to  as- 
sure the  defence  of  the  place  which 
was  now  more  seriously  threatened. 
Before  his  return  to  the  pass,  the  ene- 
my, at  daylight,  had  commenced  their 
attack.  It  was  made  with  great  force, 
and  with  varying  success.  There  was 
danger  of  the  American  position  being 
completely  turned,  but  by  a  series 
of  skillful  manoeuvres,  admirably  exe- 
cuted, and  sustained  by  the  artillery 
and  companies  of  volunteers,  the  ene- 
my was  driven  back. 

An  incident  occurred  in  this  re- 
pulse, which  for  its  bearing  upon 
the  personal  character  of  General  Tay- 
lor, may  be  separated  from  the  mass 
of  details  of  this  engagement  lying 
before  us.  "It  was  during  this  re- 
treat," says  Mr.  Dawson  in  his  account 
of  the  action,  "that  two  thousand 
Mexicans,  anxious  to  escape  the  fire  in 
their  rear,  as  well  as  a  destructive  fire 
on  their  flank  from  the  troops  on  the 
plateau,  had  sought  shelter  in  the 
recesses  of  the  mountains,  and  were 
huddled  together  in  a  helpless,  disor- 
derly mass.   At  this  moment  the  good- 


24:4  -  ZACHAHY 

ness  of  General  Taylor's  heart  inter- 
ceded in  tlieir  behalf,  notwithstanding 
they  were  enemies;  and  he  hesitated 
before  sacrificing  a  single  life — even 
that  of  an  enemy — unnecessarily.  With 
the  merciful  desire  of  saving  life,  there- 
fore, he  dispatched  Lieutenant  Critten- 
den, his  aid-de-camp,  with  a  flag,  and 
demanded  the  surrender  of  the  party ; 
but  instead  of  complying  with  the 
demand,  the  Mexicans  availed  them- 
selves of  the  opportunity  afforded  them, 
and  marched  out  of  the  gorge,  while 
the  troops  under  General  Wool,  under 
orders  from  General  Taylor,  silently 
looked  on,  without  being  permitted  to 
fire  a  shot,  or  take  a  step  to  prevent 
their  escape."^ 

One  last  effort  was  left  to  be  di- 
rected by  Santa  Anna  himself.  Ral- 
lying his  forces  for  an  overwhelm- 
ing attack  on  the  central  plateau,  he 
would  have  gained  that  important 
position  had  he  not  been  met  by 
the  American  artillery,  the  Mississippi 
rifles,  and  other  companies  suddenly 
brought  into  position  against  him.  It 
was  on  this  occasion  that  General  Tay- 
lor, as  the  fortune  of  the  day  stood  in 
the  balance,  coolly  uttered  his  memora- 
ble advice  to  his  artillerist,  "A  little 
more  grape.  Captain  Bragg  ! "  Let  him 
tell  the  story  in  the  usual  simple  words 
of  his  own  dispatch,  where  we  may  be 
sure  we  shall  hear  nothing  of  this  dra- 
matic point.  "The  moment  was  most 
critical.  Captain  O'Brien,  with  two 
pieces,  had  sustained  the  heavy  charge 
to  the  last,  and  was  finally  obliged  to 
leave  his  guns  on  the  field — his  infantry 


'  Battles  of  the  United  States,  II.  496. 


TAYLOR 

support  being  entirely  routed.  Cap- 
tain Bragg,  who  had  just  arrived  from 
the  left,  was  ordered  at  once  into  bat- 
tery. Without  any  infantry  to  support 
him,  and  at  the  imminent  risk  of  losing 
his  guns,  this  officer  came  rapidly  into 
action,  the  Mexican  line  being  but  a 
few  yards  from  the  muzzle  of  his  pieces. 
The  first  discharge  of  canister  caused 
the  enemy  to  hesitate ;  the  second  and 
third  drove  him  back  in  disorder  and 
saved  the  day."  There  were  other  ser- 
vices rendered  in  the  final  repulse,  but 
for  them  and  the  merits  of  particular 
officers  and  companies  in  the  battle,  we 
must  refer  the  reader  to  the  various 
dispatches  and  military  narratives  of 
the  day. 

Let  one  brief  passage  from  General' 
Taylor's  narrative  declare  the  spirit 
which  ruled  the  gallant  bands  of  volun- 
teers, nearly  all  for  the  first  time  under 
fire  on  that  occasion.  "  No  further 
attempt,"  he  vn'ites  in  his  official  ac- 
count, "  was  made  by  the  enemy  to 
force  our  position,  and  the  approach  of 
night  gave  an  opportunity  to  pay  pro- 
per attention  to  the  wounded,  and  also 
to  refresh  the  soldiers,  who  had  been 
exhausted  by  incessant  watchfulness 
and  combat.  Though  the  night  was 
severely  cold,  the  troops  were  compelled 
for  the  most  to  bivouac  without  fires, 
expecting  that  morning  would  renew  the 
conflict.  During  the  night  the  wound- 
ed were  removed  to  Saltillo,  and  every 
preparation  made  to  receive  the  enemy, 
should  he  again  attack  our  position." 
The  enemy,  however,  made  no  such 
attempt.  Leaving  his  wounded  on  the 
way,  he  made  good  his  retreat  to  San 
Luis  Potosi.     The  few  figures  with 


ZACHART  TAYLOR. 


245 


wLich  tlie  stories  of  all  battles  end  will 
tell  better  than  aiiglit  else  tlie  heroism 
of  the  brave  encounter.    The  American 
force  engaged  was  three  hundred  and 
thirty-four  officers  and  four  thousand 
fom-  hundred  and  twenty-five  men,  of 
which  two  squadrons  of  cavalry  anc 
three  batteries  of  light  artillery,  making 
not  more  than  four  hundred  and  fifty- 
thi-ee  men,  composed  the  only  force  of 
regular  troops.     The  Mexican  forces, 
we  have  seen  stated  by  Santa  Anna 
himself,  at  twenty  thousand,  an  esti 
mate  confirmed  by  all  subsequent  in- 
formation.  The  American  loss  was  two 
hundred  and  sixty-seven  killed,  four 
hundi-ed  and  fifty-six  wounded  and 
twenty-three  missing.     The  Mexican 
loss  was  computed  by  General  Taylor 
at  between  fifteen  hundred  and  two 
thousand.   At  least  five  hundred  killed 
were  left  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Thus  closed  General  Taylor's  connec- 
tion with  the  active  operations  of  the 
Mexican  War.  He  was  for  some  time 
engaged  in  camp  duties,  when  he  re- 
quested leave  of  absence  to  attend  to 
the  duties  of  his  plantations  on  the 
Mississippi.  His  home  was  at  Baton 
Kouge,  Louisiana,  the  residence  also  of 
his  estimable  son-in-law  the  late  Colonel 
Bliss,  a  member  of  his  staff  during  his 
Mexican  campaigns. 

The  battle  of  Buena  Vista,  was,  as 
we  have  seen,  fought  at  the  end  of  I 
February,  1847.  Just  two  years  from 
that  time,  March  4,  1849,  its  brave  and 
modest  commander  was  installed  as 
President  of  the  United  States  at  Wash- 
ington. The  two  events  may  safely  be 
put  in  conjunction,  for  one  proceeded 
directly  out  of  the  other.   General  Tay- 


n.— 31 


lor,  as  Senator  Benton  remarked,  was 
the  first  President  elected  upon  a  repu- 
tation purely  military.    He  had  been 
in  the  army  from  his  youth,  and,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  officers  of  the 
army,  had  not  even  voted  at  an  elec 
tion.    He  was  selected,  of  course,  on 
account  of  his  availability ;  yet  it  was 
an  availability  which  did  not  rest  alto- 
gether on  his  purely  military  character. 
"  It  will  be  a  great  mistake,"  said  Dan- 
iel Webster  to  the  Senate,  "  to  suppose 
that  he  owed  his  advancement  to  high 
civil  trust,  or  his  great  acceptableness 
with  the  people  to  military  talent  or 
ability  alone.     Associated  with  the 
highest  admiration  for  those  qualities 
possessed  by  him,  there  was  spread 
throughout  the  community  a  high  de- 
gree of  confidence  and  faith  in  his  in- 
tegrity, and  honor,  and  uprightness  as 
a  man.     I  believe  he  was  especially 
regarded  as  both  a  firm  and  a  mild 
man  in  the  exercise  of  authority ;  and  I 
have  observed  more  than  once,  in  this 
and  in  other  popular  governments,  that 
the  prevalent  motive  with  the  masses 
of  mankind  for  conferring  high  honors 
on  individuals  is  a  confidence  in  their 
mildness,  their  paternal,  protecting,  pru- 
dent and  safe  character."    This  was 
well  said.    Every  word  is  in  harmony 
with  the  popular  appreciation  of  Gen- 
eral Taylor;  and  there  are  doubtless 
many  living  in  Mexico,  as  well  as  in  his 
own  country,  who  would  respond  to 
the  sentiment.    The  soldier  who  could 
pause  in  the  midst  of  such  a  day  as  that 
of  Buena  Vista  to  arrest  the  tide  of 
slaughter,  when  slaughter  was  self-pre- 
servation, with  the  deed  of  mercy  we 
have  recorded,  must  be  entitled  to  no 


246  ZACHAUY 

common  meed  of  praise  on  the  ground 
of  lumianity.  But  something  more  was 
added  by  his  eminent  eulogist.  "I 
Buppose,"  said  Mr.  Webster,  "  that  no 
case  ever  happened,  in  the  very  best 
days  of  the  Roman  republic,  when  a 
man  found  himself  clothed  with  the 
highest  authority  in  the  state  under 
circumstances  more  repelling  all  suspi- 
cion of  personal  application,  of  pur- 
suing any  crooked  path  in  politics,  or 
of  having  been  actuated  by  sinister 
views  and  purposes,  than  in  the  case  of 
this  worthy,  and  eminent,  and  distin- 
guished, and  good  man."^ 

The  circumstance  that  Mr.  "Webster 
was  himself  a  candidate  before  the 
Whig  convention,  which  nominated 
General  Taylor  for  the  Presidency,  adds 
weight  to  these  assertions.  Mr,  Cass 
wa,s  the  opposing  democratic  candidate. 
The  vote  of  the  electors  was  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty-three  to  one  hundred 
and  twenty-seven. 

Of  the  qualities  of  his  short  admi- 
nistration of  the  office,  let  a  member  of 
the  party  opposed  to  his  election  speak. 
The  late  Senator  Benton  says :  "  His 
brief  career  showed  no  deficiency  of 
political  wisdom  for  want  of  previous 

'  Remarks  in  the  Senate  on  the  death  of  General  Tay- 
lor.— Webster's  Works,  p.  409. 


TAYLOR. 

political  training.    He  came  into  the 
administration  at  a  time  of  great  diffi- 
culty, and  acted  up  to  the  emergency 
of  his  position.  .    .    .   His  death  was 
a  public  calamity.    No  man  could  have 
been  more  devoted  to  the  Union,  or 
more  opposed  to  the  slavery  agitation ; 
and  his  position  as  a  Southern  man, 
and  a  slaveholder — his  military  repu- 
tation and  his  election  by  a  majority 
of  the  people  and  of  the  States — would 
have  given  him  a  power  in  the  settle- 
ment of  these  questions  which  no  Pre- 
sident without  these  qualifications  could 
have  possessed.    In  the  political  divi- 
sion he  classed  with  the  Whig  party ; 
but  his  administration,  as  far  as  it  went, 
was  applauded  by  the  democracy,  and 
promised  to  be  so  to  the  end  of  his  offi- 
cial term.    Dying  at  the  head  of  the 
government,  a  national  lamentation  be- 
wailed his  departure   from  life  and 
power,  and  embalmed  his  memory  in 
the  affections  of  his  country."  ^ 

General  Taylor  died  at  Washington, 
at  the  Presidential  mansion,  July  9, 
1850,  of  a  fever  contracted  by  exposure 
to  the  intense  heat  of  the  sun,  in  attend- 
ance upon  the  ceremonies  of  the  Day 
of  Independence. 

'  Benton's  Thirty  fears'  View,  II.  765-6. 


JAMES   KNOX  POLK. 


The  eleventli  President  of  the  United 
States  was  born  in  Mecklenburg  county, 
Nortli  Carolina,  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
county  town  of  Charlotte,  November  2, 
1795.    He  was  of  Scoto-Irish  descent, 
the  name  being  said  to  have  been  ori- 
ginally Pollock  in  Scotland.  Kobert 
Polk,  the  first  American  ancestor  of 
the  family,  emigrated  from  Ireland 
about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century.    He  came  to  Maryland,  and 
was  temporarily  established,  with  his 
children,  on  the  eastern  shore ;  thence 
his  sons  removed  first  to  the  interior  of 
Pennsylvania,  and   afterward  to  the 
more  permanent  settlement  in  North 
Carolina.    In  this  frontier  district,  in 
the  western  part  of  the  State,  border- 
ing on  South  Carolina,  in  the  region 
bounded  by  the  parallel  streams  of  the 
Yadkin  and  the  Catawba,  the  three 
sons  of  Thomas  Polk,  Thomas,  Ezekiel 
and  Charles,  found  a  home,  in  the 
midst  of  a  sturdy,  independent  popula- 
tion, who  carried  the  virtues  of/  order, 
sobriety,  and  secular  and  religious  edu- 
cation to  the  borders  of  what  was  then 
the  Indian  wilderness.    Two  of  these 
brothers,  Thomas  and  Ezekiel,  became 
distinguished  in  the  early  annals  of  the 
Revolution,  in  those  measures  of  pro- 
test and  resistance  which  placed  TsTorth 
Carolina  in  the  foremost  rank  of  State 


patriotism.  Thomas  Polk  was  j)ut  for- 
ward as  the  leader  of  these  indepen 
dent  mountaineers.  He  was  colonel  of 
the  militia,  and  had  been  a  surveyor 
and  member  of  the  colonial  assembly. 
It  was  at  his  call  that  a  convention  of 
the  citizens  of  the  region,  delegates  of 
the  militia  districts,  assembled  at  Char- 
lotte on  the  19th  of  May,  1775,  to 
deliberate  on  the  crisis  at  hand.  While 
they  were  assembled,  it  is  said,  news 
was  brought  by  a  post  rider  of  the 
bloody  day  at  Lexington,  The  meet- 
ing was  stimulated  to  action,  and  ex- 
pressed its  resolve  in  the  famous 
Mecklenburgh  Declaration  of  Indepen- 
dence, which  curiously  anticipated,  in 
its  spirit  and  even  a  portion  of  its  lan- 
guage, the  words  of  the  great  national 
instrument  from  the  pen  of  Jefferson. 
Thomas  Polk  was  a  master-spirit  in 
these  transactions. 

His  nephew  Samuel,  son  of  Ezekiel, 
was  the  father  of  the  future  President. 
He  was  a  farmer  "  of  unassuming  pre- 
tensions, but  of  enterprising  character." 
His  wife,  who  gave  her  family  name  to 
her  son,  was  the  daughter  of  James 
Knox,  who  became  captain  in  the 
military  service  of  the  Revolution. 
In  1806,  when  their  son  James  was 
about  eleven  years  old,  the  family, 
tempted  by  the  accounts  of  western 

247 


24:8 


JAMBS  KNOX  POLK. 


lands,  removed  across  tlie  mountams 
into  the  adjoining  state  of  Tennessee, 
and  settled  on  tlie  banks  of  Duck 
river.    In  this  region,  tke  boykood  of 
tke  future  President  was  passed  in 
tke  kardy  pursuits  of  a  farmer's  life, 
spent  in  subduing  tke  land  to  tke  pur- 
poses of  cultivation.    His  kealtk,  kow- 
ever,  was  not  robust,  and  kis  fatker, 
tkinking  perkaps  tkat  less  demand 
would  be  made  upon  kis  pkysical 
powers,  procured  kim  employment  at 
first  witk  a  store-keeper.    Tke  occupa- 
tion was  not  to  tke  youtk's  taste ;  ke 
was  of  a  reflective  tui'n,  fond  of  read- 
ing, and  kis  mind  kad  been  led  to 
study  by  witnessing  kis  fatker's  occu- 
pations as  a  surveyor.    He  desired  to 
leave  merckandize — ^kis  wisk  was  grant- 
ed— and  at  tke  age  of  eigkteen,  ke 
applied  kimself  regularly  to  study,  at 
first  under  tke  care  of  tke  Eev.  Dr.  Hen- 
derson, and  afterward  at  tke  academy 
of  Murfreesborougk  in  tke  State,  in 
ckarge  of  Mr.  Samuel  P.  Black,  a  man  of 
valuable  classical  acquirements.  "Witk 
tkese  advantages  and  diligent  applica- 
tion, tke  pupil  in  1815  entered  tke 
Sopkomore  Class  of  tke  University  of 
Nortk  Carolina,  at  Ckapel  Hill. 

He  distinguisked  kimself  in  kis  col- 
lege course  by  kis  punctual,  earnest  ap- 
plication and  proficiency  in  kis  studies. 
He  became  tke  foremost  sckolar  botk  in 
matkematics,  for  wkick  ke  kad  a  natu- 
ral liking,  and  in  tke  classics.  He 
graduated  in  1818  witk  tke  kigkest 
konors,  delivering  tke  Latin  salutatory 
oration.  He  was  tken  twenty-tkree, 
some  two  or  tkree  years  older  tkan  tke 
great  majority  of  tke  crowd  wko  are 
sent  out  annually  as  backelors  of  arts ; 


but  tke  later  preparation  was  doubt- 
less an  advantage  to  kim  in  tke  greater 
maturity  of  kis  powers.    Our  college 
studies,  in  fact,  would  be  far  better 
pursued  by  older  students,  more  tko- 
rougkly  grounded  in  tke  introductory 
apprenticeskip  to  learning.    Tke  work 
of  education,  if  accomplisked  at  all,  is 
in  most  cases,  we  are  persuaded,  to  be 
begun  over  again  by  tke  pupil  kimself 
after  tke  so  called  university  course  is 
ended.    Mr.  Polk   carried  kis  duties 
witk  kim  into  active  life;  tkey  were 
always   selfimposed,  and  were  witk 
kim  a  living  reality. 

After  taking  kis  degree,  tkougk  ill 
kealtk  pleaded  for  a  relaxation  from 
kis  diligent  application  to  books,  we 
find  kim  soon  commencing  tke  study 
of  tke  law  witk  Felix  Grundy,  tke 
eminent  legal  pioneer  of  tke  west,  tken 
establisked  in  tke  fullness  of  kis  pro- 
fessional career  at  Naskville,  witk  tke 
additional  eclat  of  successful  statesman- 
skip  at  Waskington,  as  a  member  of 
tke  committee  of  Foreign  Relations  in 
tke  war  administration  of  Madison. 
Association  witk  suck  a  preceptor,  a 
man  of  vigorous  mind,  wko  kad  ackieved 
distinction  by  tke  force  of  kis  own  cka- 
racter,  must  doubtless  kave  exercised  a 
leading  influence  upon  a  young  man 
wko  kad  already  given  proof  of  kis 
triumpk  over  ordinarily  adverse  for- 
tunes. Pursuing  kis  legal  studies  for 
two  years,  ke  was  in  1820  admitted  to 
tke  bar,  and  returned  from  Naskville 
to  pursue  tke  profession  in  tke  region 
of  kis  kome  at  Columbia.  His  success, 
based  upon  kis  tkorougk  acquisitions 
and  tke  influence  of  kis  family  associa- 
I  tions,  for  tkere  were  numerous  emi- 


JAMES  KNOX  POLK. 


349 


grants  of  his  stock  to  the  district,  was 
so  rapid  that  in  less  than  a  year  he  was 
acknowledged  as  a  leading  practitioner. 
He  had  already  acquired  fame  and  pro- 
fit at  the  bar,  when,  in  1823,  he  had 
his  first  introduction  to  political  life, 
or  rather  office,  as  a  member  from  his 
county  of  Maury  in  the  State  legisla- 
ture. A  lawyer  in  the  west  at  that 
time,  and  the  remark  may  be  applied 
more  or  less  to  the  present  day,  was  of 
necessity  something  of  a  politician,  and 
we  hear  of  Mr.  Polk  assisting  the  tradi- 
tionary tendencies  and  conduct  of  his 
family  by  his  earnest  advocacy  of  the 
democratic  policy.  He  was  often  called 
upon  to  address  political  gatherings, 
and  acquitted  himself,  we  are  told, 
with  credit  and  favor  by  a  plain  use 
of  argument,  without  resort  to  the 
taudry  and  meretricious  ornaments  in 
which  popular  speakers  so  often  feel 
themselves  called  upon  to  indulge. 
The  success,  in  fact,  of  his  life  was 
due  to  quite  other  qualities — to  his 
simple,  sincere,  straightforward  charac- 
ter, and  the  confidence  those  who  knew 
him  derived  from  his  manners  and 
conduct. 

Mr.  Polk  remained  two  years  in  the 
Tennessee  legislature,  in  the  course  of 
wMch  he  had  the  opportknity  of  ren- 
dering important  service  to  his  early 
friend,  Andi^ew  Jackson,  in  his  elec- 
tion to  the  senate  of  the  United 
States.  Mr.  Polk,  at  this  time,  was 
married  to  the  daughter  of  Joel  Chil- 
dress, a  merchant  of  Tennessee,  a  lady 
whose  virtues  and  graces,  in  public 
and  private  life,  in  the  prominent 
social-theatre  at  Washington,  are  grate- 
fully beld  in  esteem  by  the  nation.  In 


1825,  Mr.  Polk  was  elected  a  member 
of  congress,  took  his  seat  in  December, 
and  was  continued  a  member  of  that 
body  for  fourteen  years.  No  one  du- 
ring this  period  was  more  completely 
identified  with  its  proceedings.  It 
embraced  the  vigorous  period  of  his 
life,  from  thirty  to  forty-four.  He  ap- 
peared on  the  floor  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  the  representative,  in 
all  their  integrity  and  severity,  of  the 
creed  of  strict  construction  which  had 
grown  out  of  the  doctrines  of  the  old 
Republican  Jeifersonian  party.  He  was 
opposed  to  the  recharter  of  the  Bank 
of  the  United  States,  to  a  protective 
tariff,  to  wasteful  expenditures  in  inter- 
nal improvements ;  he  advocated  econo- 
my in  the  government.  In  all  questions 
arising  from  the  discussions,  he  was  a 
zealous,  persistent  supporter  of  his 
party.  In  1827,  he  was  placed  on  the 
committee  of  foreign  affairs;  and  du- 
ring the  administration  of  General 
Jackson,  as  head  of  the  committee  of 
ways  and  means,  rendered  the  Presi- 
dent the  most  important  assistance  in 
his  vigorously  conducted  war  against 
the  United  States  Bank.  His  other 
more  prominent  position  in  the  House 
was  as  speaker,  to  which  he  was  elected 
at  the  opening  of  the  session  in  1835, 
and  again  at  the  session  of  1837,  with 
the  conclusion  of  which,  he  retired  from 
congress,  declining  a  reelection. 

The  four  years,  during  which  he  pre 
sided  over  the  deliberations  of  the 
House,  were  marked  by  strong  political 
excitement,  and  the  duties  of  the  office 
had  grown,  with  the  increase  of  con- 
gress, to  be  of  a  more  arduous  charac- 
ter.   Through  all  discussions,  however, 


250 


JAMES  KNOX  POLK. 


Mr.  Polk  pursued  his  steady,  calm,  in- 
flexible course,  always  present,  tlie 
most  punctual  man  in  tlie  House,  task- 
ing Hs  powers,  it  seemed  to  the  stranger 
looking  on  tke  excited  scene,  beyond 
Ms  strength,  educing  order  out  of  chaos, 
dividing  the  knotty  questions  of  debate 
with  the  skill  and  impartiality  of  an 
acute  mind  well  practised  in  parlia- 
mentary logic.  The  importance  of  the 
position  has  been  more  than  once 
shown,  since  Mr.  Polk's  discharge  of 
the  office,  in  the  protracted  struggles 
at  the  commencement  of  new  sessions 
of  the  House  in  the  equal  division  of 
parties.  It  must  always  be  regarded 
as  a  most  distinguishing  honor  for  any 
man,  and  the  ability  and  energy  of 
Mr.  Polk  will  be  honorably  remembered 
in  its  annals. 

That  Mr,  Polk  himself  held  a  no  less 
high  sense  of  the  dignity  of  his  position 
may  be  gathered  from  the  language  in 
which  he  took  leave  of  the  House  on 
the  adjournment  of  that  body  in  1839. 
His  brief  review  of  his  duties  presents 
an  extraordinary  picture  of  duty  faith- 
fully pei'formed  and  as  honorably  ap- 
preciated. "When  I  look  back  to  the 
period,"  was  his  language,  "  when  I  first 
took  my  seat  in  this  House,  and  then 
look  around  me  for  those  who  were  at 
that  time  my  associates  here,  I  find  but 
few,  very  few,  remaining.  But  five 
members  who  were  here  with  me  four- 
teen years  ago,  continue  to  be  members 
of  this  body.  My  service  here  has  been 
constant  and  laborious.  I  can  perhaps 
say  what  but  what  few  others,  if  any, 
can,  that  I  have  not  failed  to  attend 
the  daily  sittings  of  this  House  a  single 
day  since  I  have  been  a  member  of  it, 


save  on  a  single  occasion,  when  pre- 
vented for  a  short  time  by  indisposi- 
tion. In  my  intercourse  with  the  mem- 
bers of  this  body,  when  I  occupied  a 
place  upon  the  floor,  though  occasion 
ally  engaged  in  debates  upon  interest- 
ing public  questions  and  of  an  exciting 
character,  it  is  a  source  of  unmingled 
gratification  to  me  to  recur  to  the  fact, 
that  on  no  occasion  was  there  the 
slightest  personal  or  unpleasant  colli- 
sion with  any  of  its  members.  Main- 
taining, and  at  all  times  expressing,  my 
own  opinions  firmly,  the  same  right 
was  fully  conceded  to  others.  For  four 
years  past,  the  station  I  have  occupied, 
and  a  sense  of  propriety,  in  the  divided 
and  unusually  exciting  state  of  public 
opinion  and  feeling,  which  has  existed 
both  in  this  House  and  the  country, 
have  precluded  me  from  participating 
in  your  debates.  Other  duties  were 
assigned  me. 

"  The  high  office  of  Speaker,  to  which 
it  has  been  twice  the  pleasure  of  the 
House  to  elevate  me,  has  been  at  all 
times  one  of  labor  and  high  responsi- 
bility. It  has  been  made  my  duty  to 
decide  more  questions  of  parliamentary 
law  and  order,  many  of  them  of  a  com- 
plex and  difficult  character,  arising 
often  in  the  midst  of  high  excitement, 
in  the  course  of  our  proceedings,  than 
had  been  decided,  it  is  believed,  by  all 
my  predecessors,  from  the  foundation 
of  the  government.  This  House  has 
uniformly  sustained  me,  without  dis- 
tinction of  the  political  parties  of  which 
it  has  been  composed.  I  return  them 
my  thanks  for  their  constant  support 
in  the  discharge  of  the  duties  I  have 
had  to  perform.    ...    I  trust  this 


JAMES   KNOX  POLK. 


251 


high  office  may  in  future  times  be 
filled,  as  doubtless  it  will  be,  by  abler 
men.  It  cannot,  I  know,  be  filled  by 
any  one  Avho  will  devote  himself  with 
moi'B  zeal  and  untiring  industry  to  do 
his  whole  duty,  than  I  have  done." 

Ml*.  Polk  had  hardly  reached  his 
home  in  Tennessee  after  his  retirement 
from  Congress,  when  he  engaged  in  a 
diligent  canvassing  of  the  State  as  a  can- 
didate for  governor  at  the  approaching 
election.  He  was  untiring  in  his  devo- 
tion to  his  object,  and  so  successful  was 
his  energy,  that  he  gained  the  election 
over  his  opponent,  the  incumbent  of  the 
office.  His  inauo::ui*al  address,  deli- 
vered  at  Nashville  in  October,  1839,  a 
remarkably  clear  and  well- written  com- 
position, reviewed  the  leading  distinc- 
tive principles  of  his  party — the  strict 
interpretation  of  the  Constitution,  in 
reference  to  express  and  implied  pow- 
ers ;  the  unconstitutionality  and  dangers 
of  a  national  bank;  the  evil  of  a  surplus 
Federal  revenue;  the  inviolability  of 
slavery  by  Congress  in  the  slave-hold- 
ing States,  and  other  well  known  posi- 
tions. In  his  own  State  he  encouraged 
and  assisted  a  "  well  regulated  system 
of  internal  improvement."  His  admi- 
nistration was  generally  welj^  received ; 
but  when  the  time  came  for  reelection, 
he  shared  the  fortunes  of  his  party  and 
suffered  a  defeat.  It  was  the  moment 
of  the  popular  whig  triumph  of  Gene- 
ral Harrison ;  two  years  later  his  rival. 
Governor  James  C.  Jones,  was  again 
successful  in  the  contest. 

The  next  turn  of  the  political  wheel 
carried  ex-Governor  Polk  to  the  Presi- 
dency. A  decided  letter,  written  by 
him  in  favor  of  the  annexation  of  Texas, 


brought  him  favorably  before  the  Bal- 
timore Convention  of  May,  1844,  when 
that  nominating  body  had  exhausted 
the  roll  of  prior  candidates.  On  the 
ninth  ballot,  after  Van  Buren,  Cass  and 
others  had  been  set  aside,  he  received 
the  requisite  two-thirds  vote  and  be- 
came the  candidate  of  the  party.  In 
accepting  the  nomination,  he  avowed 
his  intention,  in  the  event  of  his  elec- 
tion, not  to  be  a  candidate  for  a  second 
term.  The  contest  between  the  two 
tickets.  Polk  and  Dallas,  Clay  and 
Frelinghuysen,  resulted  in  the  electoral 
college  in  a  majority  for  the  former 
ticket  of  sixty-five.  Fifteen  States  voted 
for  Polk ;  eleven,  and  among  them  Ten- 
nessee, by  a  small  majority,  for  Clay. 
The  successful  candidate  was  duly  in- 
augurated at  Washington  in  March, 
1845. 

The  leading  measures,  or  rather  the 
chief  events,  of  Polk's  administration  of 
the  Presidency  were  the  adjustment  of 
the  Oregon  question  with  England,  and 
the  War  with  Mexico.  In  the  former 
he  took  ground  in  his  inaugural  and 
annual  message,  in  accordance  with  the 
resolutions  of  the  Baltimore  nominating 
convention,  in  favor  of  the  claim  to 
the  whole  of  the  territory,  a  position 
which,  while  maintaining  his  view  of 
the  matter,  he  in  a  measure  yielded  to 
the  will  of  the  Senate  in  their  accept- 
ance of  the  terms  of  the  British  govern- 
ment. The  treaty  was  signed  in  June, 
1846.  A  month  before  this,  Congress 
officially  recognized,  by  its  declaration, 
the  existence  of  war  with  Mexico.  Of 
the  events  of  that  war,  of  which  Presi- 
dent Polk  must  be  considered  the  in- 
fluential agent,  it  is  not  necessary  here 


252 


JAMES  KNOX  POLK. 


to  speak  in  detail.  Its  progress  was, 
upon  the  whole,  so  honorable  to  the 
arms  of  the  country,  as  victory  after 
victory  was  chronicled  in  the  move- 
ments of  the  great  campaigns  of  Taylor 
and  Scott,  and  the  conduct  of  the  war, 
at  its  termination,  was  so  moderate  in 
imposing  the  conditions  of  peace  at  an 
early  moment,  that  much  of  the  oppo- 
sition to  its  commencement  was  happily 
neutralized.  The  immediate  settlement 
of  California,  and  its  brilliant  progress 
in  civilization,  under  the  stimulus  of  the 
gold  discovery,  have  also  thrown  a  halo 
over  the  war.  Its  ulterior  effects  are 
yet  to  be  read  in  history;  but,  what- 
ever be  the  result,  the  date  of  the  acqui- 
sition of  so  wide  a  region  of  territory 
bordering  upon  the  great  ocean  of  the 
"West,  and  so  rounding  the  world  to  the 
fabled  regions  of  the  East,  and  its  influ- 
ence upon  the  welfare  of  countless 
numbers  of  the  human  race,  will  always 
mark  the  period  of  the  administration 
of  President  Polk.  Of  the  unexpected 
results  of  the  war,  probably  the  least 
looked  for  was  the  development  of  one 
of  its  least  known  ofiicers  at  the  outset, 
into  his  successor  in  the  presidential 
chair.  President  Polk,  having  accom- 
panied General  Taylor  to  the  inaugural 
ceremonies  at  the  capitol  on  the  fifth 
of  March,  1849,  retired  to  his  home  at 
Nashville,  taking  Charleston  and  New 
Orleans  by  the  way.  He  made  the 
journey  in  safety,  though  an  attack  of 
diarrhaea,  in  his  ascent  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, and  the  inevitable  fatigue  of  tra- 
vel, probably  somewhat  enfeebled  his 


powers.  He  reached  home  to  occupy 
the  mansion  and  grounds  in  the  heart 
of  the  city,  formerly  occupied  by  Sena- 
tor Grundy,  of  which  he  had  become 
the  purchaser ;  but  he  was  not  destined 
to  enjoy  them  long.  An  attack  of  the 
chronic  diarrhsea  to  which  he  was  sub- 
ject proved  unmanageable  by  his  phy- 
sicians, and  after  a  few  days'  illness  his 
powers  of  life  were  exhausted.  His 
death  took  place  on  the  fifteenth  of 
June,  1849,  in  his  fifty-fourth  year,  little 
more  than  three  months  after  his  retire- 
ment from  the  Presidency. 

In  person  Mr.  Polk  was  spare,  of 
the  middle  height,  with  a  bright, 
expressive  eye,  and  ample,  angular 
forehead.  Of  his  personal  character 
we  may  cite  the  words  of  his  biog- 
rapher: "He  was  simple  and  plain  in 
all  his  habits.  His  private  life  was 
upright  and  blameless.  Honesty  and 
integrity  characterized  his  intercourse 
with  his  fellow  men ;  fidelity  and  affec- 
tion his  relations  to  his  family.  In  his 
friendships  he  was  frank  and  sincere; 
and  courteous  and  affable  in  his  dispo- 
sition. He  was  generous  and  benevo- 
lent ;  but  his  charities,  like  his  charac- 
ter, were  unostentatious.  He  was  pious, 
too,  sincerely;  his  wife  was  a  member 
of  the  Presbyterian  church,  but  he 
never  united  with  any  denomination, 
though  on  his  dying  bed  he  received 
the  rite  of  baptism  at  the  hands  of  a 
Methodist  clergyman,  an  old  neighbor 
and  friend."^ 


The  Life  of  Jamos  Knox  Polk,  by  John  S.  Jenkins. 


/ 


RUFUS  CHOATE. 


Few  legal  practitioners,  wlio  Lave 
been  so  exclusively  devoted  to  their 
profession,  have  acquired  the  popular 
reputation  which  followed  the  man,  as 
it  will  long  attach  itself  to  the  memory 
of  Rufus  Choate.    The  bar,  even  in  its 
more  intelligible    exhibitions  —  those 
likely  to  interest  the  sympathies  and 
arouse  the  admiration  of  a  general 
audience — has  but  a  limited  field  for 
display.   Like  the  "  momentary  graces  " 
of  the  actor,  much  of  the  success  of  the 
advocate  blazes  and  expires  on  the  in- 
stant.   The  spectators  in  a  court  room 
are  moved ;  the  judge,  perhaps,  relaxes 
his  official  dignity  in  the  restrained 
tribute  of  a  smile,  or  a  frown  a  little 
less  severe ;  and  the  jury  may  melt  in 
a  body,  victims  to  ijhe  resistless  cun- 
ning or  eloquence  of  the  pleader.  But 
how  little,  of  all  these  triumphant  ex- 
ertions— this  acting  and  applause,  the 
wit,  the  humor,  the  skill,  the  judgment, 
the  readiness  of  mind — leave  the  hall 
with  the  retiring  advocate.    At  most  a 
general  reputation  is  gained — all-im- 
portant indeed  to  the  man  of  law,  for 
his  success  will  bring  him  flocks  of 
clients,  trusting  their  lives  and  fortunes 
to  his  powers,  and  opening  their  purses 
vsdth  ever  increasing  prodigality  and 
alacrity  ;  but  how  scant  is  the  material 
for  biography  in  the  cash-book  of  the 
II.— 32 


counsellor.    A  few  anecdotes  of  his 
brilliancy  linger  awhile  among  the  liti- 
gants and  his  fellow  members  of  the 
bar ;  the  dashing  pleader  retires  to  give 
place  to  other  expenders  of  breath  in 
the  ceaseless  service  of  injured  fortunes 
and  reputations ;  and  all  that  is  left  of 
the  bubbling  vanity  of  fame  is  the  label 
on  the  empty  bottle  denoting  the  costly 
vintage  which  once  sparkled  within. 
The  wine  has  been  poured  out,  quaffed 
with  enthusiasm,  set  the  table  in  a  roar, 
and  the  banqueters  have  long  since 
taken  their  departure.    Such,  for  the 
most  part,  is  professional  success.    If  a 
record  is  kept  by  the  court  reporter, 
the  drier  portions  of  the  argument  only 
will  be  preserved,  studiously  stripped 
of   their   rhetorical    ornaments,  and 
though,  to  members  of  the  profession, 
there  can  be  no  greater  mental  luxury 
than  the  technical  intricacies  of  a  pro- 
tracted legal  disputation,  such  reading, 
it  must  be  equally  admitted,  has  never 
been  found  peculiarly  attractive  to  the 
public  at  large.    In  family  libraries 
very  few  of  those  books  are  seen  on  the 
shelves  for  which,  as  a  special  warning, 
the  wisdom  of  ages  has  provided  a  pe- 
culiar covering  of  bleached  calf,  which 
can  be  detected  on  the  instant.  Many 
men  thinking  themselves  well  inform- 
ed, familiar  with  Shakspeare  and  Mil- 

263 


254 


RUrirS  CHOATE. 


ton,  Scott  and  Macaulay,  pass  tLrougli 
the  world  solacing  their  imaginations 
with  tlie  luxuries  of  literature  and  dis- 
tributing freely  their  mental  graces  to 
their  friends,  without  having  sat  twenty 
wakino;  minutes  with  a  volume  of  Ke- 
ports  in  their  hands  during  their  entire 
earthly  existence. 

Lawyers,  it  must  be  admitted,  are 
indifferent  guardians  of  one  another's 
fame.  Perhaps,  as  their  life  is  spent  in 
exposing  delusions  and  stripping  off 
vanities,  they  think  this  also  of  the 
number.  Yet  it  might  be  well  were  it 
otherwise — if  every  great  practitioner 
had  his  Boswell,  sedulous  and  on  the 
alert  to  catch  the  fugitive  felicities  of 
the  instant.  Unfortunately,  talent  of 
this  kind  is  rare,  for  it  is  a  peculiar 
sort  of  ability,  requiring  a  very  nice 
combination  of  mental  faculties;  and 
the  disposition  to  employ  it  is  too  often 
rewarded  with  a  sneer  in  place  of  a 
plaudit.  The  return  made  to  Boswell, 
the  type  of  the  tribe,  is  not,  upon  the 
whole,  a  pleasing  one,  or  likely  to  fas- 
cinate noble  minds  to  follow  his  exam- 
ple. Yet  the  world  should  not  be  so 
fastidious  toward  so  great  a  benefactor. 
Virtually,  English  life  and  literature 
are  indebted  to  him  for  one  of  their 
greatest  celebrities. 

"We  are  not  about  to  compare  a  re- 
cent  biographer  of  Mr.  Choate  with  the 
immortal  Bozzy,  either  in  his  strength 
or  in  his  weaknesses,  nor  was  Mr. 
Choate  himself  "  a  great  Cham  of  lite- 
rature but  we  may  congratulate  our- 
selves in  possessing  the  volume  entitled 
"Reminiscences  of  Rufus  Choate,  the 
great  American  Advocate,  by  Edward 
G.  Parker,"  as  an  interesting  Boswellian 


contribution  to  American  literature. 
Good  taste  may  except  to  occasional 
expressions — we  do  not  quite  like  the 
adjectives  on  the  title  page,  they  are 
hackneyed,  and  prejudge  the  case ;  per- 
haps they  would  look  better  at  the  end 
of  the  volume — ^but  we  should  be  un- 
grateful indeed  if,  after  traversing  so 
many  waste  pages  of  history,  denuded 
of  personal  life,  we  did  not  express  our 
thanks  to  this  most  persevering  anec- 
dotical  writer.     With  the  exception, 
perhaps,  of  Daniel  Webster,  no  advo- 
cate has  been  better  served  in  this 
respect;  and  Webster,  it  must  be  re- 
membered, had  larger  opportunities  for 
notice  as  a  politician  and  statesman. 
Nor  are  we   disposed   to  say  much 
against  Mr.  Parker's  apparent  exagge- 
rations, wild  and  reckless  as  he  is, 
among  the  bland  amenities  of  Boston 
biography.    His  superlatives  will  cor- 
rect themselves.    It  is  something  of  an 
index  of  his  subject's  character  that  it, 
in  a  measure,  begets  this  sort  of  enthu- 
siasm.   It  is  part  of  the  history  of  the 
man,  and  has  been  shared  in  no  small 
measure  by  soberer  writers  than  Mr. 
Parker,  a  gentleman  who,  as  a  pupil 
and  life-long  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Choate, 
enjoyed  peculiar  opportunities  of  trac- 
ing his  career. 

Since  his  book  was  issued,  another 
biography  of  Mr.  Choate  has  appeared, 
calmer  and  more  judicious,  from  the 
pen  of  an  accomplished  scholar,  Profes- 
sor Samuel  Gilman  Brown,  of  Dart- 
mouth College,  where  the  memory  of 
its  distinguished  alumnus  is  preserved 
with  affection.  This  valuable  memoir, 
prefixed  to  a  collection  of  Mr.  Choate's 
writings,  supplies  all  that  can  be  'de- 


RUFUS 

silwl  to  acquaint  us  with  tlie  cliavacter 
of  a  man  well  wortliy  the  sympathetic, 
philosophical  study  the  writer  has  ex- 
pended upon  it. 

Eufus  Choate  was  born  October  1, 
1799,  in  the  old  toAvn  of  Ipswich,  Mas- 
sachusetts, on  an  island  looking  out 
upon  the  ocean,  the  descendant  from  a 
race  of  New  Ens-land  farmers  settled 
for  more  than  a  century  in  the  country. 
His  father,  David  Choate,  is  described 
as  "a  man  of  uncommon  intellectual 
endo^\Tnents,  of  sound  and  independent 
judgment,  a  wise  counsellor,  sociable, 
sagacious,  modest,  keen  and  witty;" 
his  mother,  Miriam  Foster,  "  a  quiet, 
sedate,  but  cheerful  woman,  dignified 
in  manner,  quick  in  perception,  of 
strong  sense  and  ready  wit."  The  son 
is  said  to  have  resembled  his  mother 
"  in  many  characteristics  of  mind  and 
person."  The  father  died  before  his 
son  Eufus  had  reached  his  ninth  year ; 
the  mother  lived  to  an  advanced  age, 
nearly  to  the  termination  of  that  son's 
eminent  career.  The  boy  early  dis- 
played the  exercise  of  imagination  and 
the  passion  for  knoyledge  which  dis- 
tinguished_him  through  life.  Stories 
of  military  and  naval  life  made  a  strong 
impression  upon  him.  He  began  his  ac- 
quaintance with  Latin  at  the  age  of  ten, 
receiving  instruction  from  a  physician 
who  resided  in  his  father's  family ;  and 
continued  his  studies  during  a  portion  of 
each  year  with  the  parish  clergyman  or 
the  teachers  of  the  district  school,  till  he 
reached  his  sixteenth  year,  when,  after 
passing  a  season  at  the  academy  in 
Hampton,  New  Hampshire,  he  was  ad- 
mitted, in  the  summer  of  1815,  to  the 
Freshman  class  in  Dartmouth  College. 


CHOATE.  25i5 

There,  at  a  time  when  the  institution, 
laboring  under  its  famous  legal  embar- 
rassments, required  and  secured  the  ut- 
most devotion  from  its  members,  we  find 
him,  distinguished  among  the  foremost, 
graduating  with  the  highest  honors  of 
his  class  in  due  course  in  1819.  He  was 
a  pale,  studious  youth,  of  a  poetical  tem- 
perament, given  to  books  and  retirement, 
while  others  were  at  play,  a  favorite 
with  his  fellows,  for  he  had  a  warm, 
generous  nature — one  of  those  subtil, 
fiery  spirits,  which  to  the  herd  of  the 
coarse  and  unintelligent,  appear  miracles 
of  genius  and  learning.  His  Valedictory 
is  spoken  of  as  both  pathetic  and  origi- 
nal, and  originality  in  so  prescribed  and 
commonplace  affair  as  a  valedictory  is  a 
sure  test  of  genius.  The  pathos  is  said 
to  have  been  enhanced  to  his  hearers 
by  the  contrast  between  his  glowing 
picture  of  the  future  prospects  of  his 
fellow  students  entering  upon  life  and 
his  own  seeming  ill  health,  which  would 
arrest  him  in  the  race.  As  a  proof  of 
his  scholarship,  he  was  retained  for  a 
year  as  a  tutor  to  the  college.  -  At  the 
expiration  of  this  service,  he  entered 
the  Dane  law  school  at  Cambridge, 
where  Edward  Everett,  in  his  eulogy 
in  Faneuil  Hall,  has  recalled  his  studi- 
ous presence  in  the  alcoves  of  the  li- 
brary. Thence,  after  a  few  months,  he 
passed  to  the  law  office  of  William 
Wirt,  then  residing  at  Washington  in 
the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  attorney- 
general  of  the  United  States.  The  as- 
sociation was  one  well  suited  to  the 
character  of  the  young  student,  for 
Wirt  was  also  a  man  of  enthusiasm  and 
sensibility,  and  such  intercourse  as 
passed  between  them  in  the  year  spent 


256 


RTJFUS  CHOATE. 


by  Cboate  in  tlie  office  must  have  been 
profitable  and  endearing.  TJnliappily, 
Wirt  was  suffering  most  of  tlie  time 
from  attacks  of  vertigo,  brought  on  by 
over  exertion,  so  that  his  pupil  had  not 
the  opportunity  of  witnessing  his  best 
forensic  efforts.  Another  great  lawyer 
was  then  the  talk  and  wonder  at  "Wash- 
ington, the  accomplished  William  Pink- 
ney,  whose  resources  and  elaboration, 
his  command  of  language  and  polished 
delivery,  with  his  rhetorical  weaknesses, 
seem  to  have  been  carefully  weighed 
by  Mr.  Choate,  who  was  in  time  to  lis- 
ten to  his  last  forensic  effort,  before  the 
Supreme  Court,  interrupted  by  the  at- 
tack of  illness  which  carried  him  off  in 
a  week.  The  occasional  comments  on 
Pinkney  scattered  through  Mr.  Par- 
ker's "  Keminiscences  "  show  the  great 
impression  made  upon  Mr.  Choate's 
mind  by  the  admired  orator  of  the  bar. 

Returning  from  the  South  with  this 
enlarged  experience,  he  completed  his 
studies  with  Judge  Cummins  of  Salem, 
was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1823,  and 
began  the  practice  of  his  profession  at 
Danrers,  in  the  same  county  of  Essex. 
After  two  or  three  years  he  removed  to 
Salem,  and  speedily  became  known  as 
a  rising  lawyer  of  undoubted  powers. 
His  legal  acuteness  was  already  mani- 
fested, and  that  control  of  juries  in 
criminal  cases  by  which  he  became 
afterward  so  widely  celebrated.  He 
was  elected  to  the  State  legislature  in 
1825,  and  subsequently  to  the  Senate. 
In  1830  he  was  nominated  by  the  Na- 
tional Republicans  of  Essex  as  represen- 
tative to  Congress,  and  was  elected  by 
a  handsome  majority.  He  was  also 
returned  to  the  succeeding  Congress  by 


the  same  constituency ;  but,  having 
determined  to  remove  his  residence  to 
Boston,  resigned  his  seat  at  the  close 
of  the  first  session.  He  made  a  favor- 
able impression  in  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives in  this  troubled  period  of 
public  affairs,  establishing  his  reputa- 
tion as  an  orator  by  his  speeches  on  the 
Tariff  and  the  Removal  of  the  Deposits ; 
but  his  thoughts  were  more  with  his 
profession  than  with  politics. 

A  passage  from  a  letter  written  to 
his  friend  Professor  George  Bush  short- 
ly after  the  issue  of  President  Jackson's 
Proclamation  against  Nullification  sets 
in  a  striking  light  his  judgment  of  that 
political  heresy.  "The  session,"  he 
writes  at  the  end  of  January,  1833,  "is 
now  one  of  thrilling  interest,  Calhoun 
is  drunk  with  disappointment ;  the 
image  of  an  ardent,  imaginative,  intel- 
lectual man,  who  once  thought  it  as 
easy  to  set  the  stars  of  glory  on  his 
brow,  as  to  put  his  hat  on ;  now  ruined, 
dishonored.  He  has  to  defend  the  most 
contemptible  mitruth  in  the  whole  his- 
tory of  human  opinion,  and  no  ability 
will  save  him  from  contempt  mentally. 
Then  he  hoped  to  recover  himself  by  a 
brilliant  stroke,  permanently  inserting 
nullification  into  our  polity  and  put- 
ting himself  at  the  head  of  a  great 
Convention  of  the  States — a  great  mid- 
night thunder-storm,  hail-storm  meeting 
of  witches  and  demons,  round  a  caldron 
big  enough  to  receive  the  disjecta  mem- 
hra  of  the  Constitution,  thence  never  to 
come  a  whole,  still  less  a  blooming, 
young  and  vigorous  form.  Wherefore 
pereat.^'' 

Abandoning  congressional  life  at 
Washington,  for  the  more  settled  pur 


RUFUS 

pose  wliicli  lie  Lad  formed  in  liis 
mind,  lie  devoted  liimself  tliencefor- 
ward  mainly  to  the  law.  He  gradually 
and  surely  rose  to  an  eminent  position 
among  Lis  distingnisLed  brethren  of  tLe 
profession,  wLo  learnt  to  recognize  be- 
neatli  various  peculiarities  of  manner  a 
profound  legal  mind  of  tLe  first  order, 
"  Mr.  CLoate,"  says  Lis  biographer, 
Professor  Brown,  "  wLose  appearance 
and  manner  were  unique,  wLose  elo- 
quence tLen  was  as  exuberant,  fervid 
and  rich  as  it  ever  became ;  who,  how- 
ever modest  for  himself,  was  bold  al- 
most to  rashness  for  his  client;  who 
startled  court  and  jury  by  his  vehe- 
mence, and  confounded  tLe  common- 
place and  routine  lawyer  by  tLe  novelty 
a.nd  brilliancy  of  Lis  tactics ;  who,  free 
from  vulgar  tricks,  was  yet  full  of  sur- 
prises, and  though  perpetually  delight- 
ing by  the  novelty  and  beauty  of  his 
argument,  was  yet  without  conceit  or 
vanity,  could  not  at  once  be  fully  un- 
derstood and  appreciated.  He  fairly 
fought  his  way  to  eminence,  created  the 
taste  which  he  gratified,  and  demon- 
strated the  possibilij^jy  of  almost  a  new 
variety  of  eloquence.  It  would  have 
been  surprising,  if  he  had  not  to  con- 
tend with  prejudices  which  time  only 
could  fully  melt  away.  For  several 
years  it  was  rather  the  fashion  to  laugL 
at  his  excessive  vehemence  of  gesture 
and  playful  exaggerations,  but  when  it 
was  found  tLat  tLe  flowers  and  myrtle 
concealed  a  blade  of  perfect  temper, 
and  as  keen  as  any  tLat  tLe  dryest  lo- 
gician could  forge,  tLat  tLe  fervent  ges- 
ticulator  never  for  one  moment  lost 
command  of  Limself  or  Lis  subject,  nor 
failed  to  Lold  tLe  thougLt  and  interest 


CHOATE.  257 

of  tLe  jury,  as  tLe  ancient  mariner  Leid 
the  wedding  guest,  till  convinced,  de- 
lighted, entranced,  they  were  eager  to 
find  a  verdict  for  his  client,  doubt  gave 
place  to  confidence,  and  disparagement 
to  admiration." 

After  seven  years  of  unintermitted 
practice,  Mr.  Choate  was  chosen  United 
States  senator  as  the  successor  of  Daniel 
Webster,  who  retired  to  accept  tLe 
office  of  Secretary  of  State  in  the  ad- 
ministration of  President  Harrison. 
Mr.  Choate's  course  in  the  Senate  was 
that  af  the  Whig  party.  He  defended 
a  regulated  tariff  for  protection,  op- 
posed the  ultra  Democratic  pretensions 
in  the  Oregon  Question  and  the  An- 
nexation of  Texas,  delivering  elaborate 
speeches,  which  were  published,  on  all 
these  questions.  They  were  argued 
with  ability,  with  occasional  illustra- 
tions, marked  equally  by  force  and  re- 
finement, quite  out  of  the  usual  range 
of  political  discussion.  There  is  a  pas- 
sage, one  of  many  instances  of  the  sub- 
tilty  to  which  we  allude,  cited  by  Mr. 
Whipple  in  an  admirable  article  on  Mr. 
Choate's  mental  cLaracteristics  in  tLe 
"  WLig  Review,"  wLich  appears  to  us  to 
exhibit  the  orator's  unhackneyed'  turn 
of  thought  v^dth  great  felicity.  He  is 
speaking  on  the  subject  of  the  Tariff 
and  arguing  for  protection  to  American 
industry  on  account  of  the  variety  it 
would  add  to  the  ordinary  employments 
of  American  life,  and  the  consequent 
addition  to  the  resources  needed  for 
different  natures — a  philosophical  ne- 
cessity never  before,  we  venture  to  say, 
so  presented  in  the  thousand  speeches 
on  this  apparently  threadbare  subject. 
"  In  a  country,"  he  says,  "  of  few  occu- 


258  RUFUS 

pations,  employments  go  down  by  an 
arbitrary,  hereditary,  coercive  designa- 
tion, without  I'egard  to  peculiarities  of 
individual  character.  But  a  diversified, 
advanced  and  refined  mechanical  and 
manufacturing  industry,  cooperating 
with  those  other  numerous  employ- 
ments of  civilization  which  always  sur- 
round it,  offers  the  widest  choice,  de- 
tects the  slightest  shade  of  individual- 
ity, quickens  into  existence  and  trains 
to  perfection  the  largest  conceivable 
amount  and  utmost  possible  variety  of 
national  mind."  The  thouo-ht  thus 
opened  admits  of  indefinite  illustration, 
and  as  it  brings  before  us  the  varied 
industry  of  Europe,  with  its  nicety  of 
arts  and  applications,  the  quickness  of 
eye,  skill  of  hand,  patient  ingenuity, 
and  the  whole  stock  of  mixed  intellec- 
tual and  scientific  resources,  we  see  the 
moral  as  well  as  material  issue  involved 
in  the  question ;  that  it  is  not  a  mere 
matter  of  balance  of  trade,  but  an  en- 
largement of  the  freedom  of  pursuit  of 
the  individual  man.  Such  intellectual 
openings  of  new  windows  into  old, 
stagnant,  unventilated  topics  were  not 
rare  with  Mr.  Choate.  They  were  ori- 
ginal products  of  his  faculties,  which 
united  powers  of  reasoning  with  imagi- 
native association. 

In  the  practical  exercise  of  wit  and 
fancy  he  also  excelled.  There  is  a  cap- 
ital instance,  also  cited  by  Mr.  Whipple, 
in  Mr.  Choate's  speech  on  the  Oregon 
Question,  where  the  mind  of  the  lis- 
tener is  elevated  by  a  series  of  imagin- 
ative pictures  to  be  more  securely  taken 
possession  of  by  the  closing  appeal. 
The  orator  has  occasion  to  rebuke  the 
idea  of  a  settled  hostility  on  the  part 


of  America  to  Great  Britain.  "  No, 
sir,"  he  said,  "we  are  above  all  this. 
Let  the  Highland  clapsman,  half  naked, 
half  civilized,  half  blinded  by  the  peat 
smoke  of  his  cavern,  have  his  hei'edit- 
ary  enemy  and  his  hereditary  enmity, 
and  keep  the  keen,  deep,  and  precious 
hatred,  set  on  fire  of  hell,  alive,  if  he 
can ;  let  the  North  American  Indian 
have  his,  and  hand  it  down  from  father 
to  son,  by  Heaven  knows  what  sym- 
bols of  alligators  and  rattle-snakes  and 
war  clubs,  smeared  with  vermilion  and 
entwined  with  scarlet ;  let  such  a  coun- 
try as  Poland,  cloven  to  the  earth,  the 
armed  heel  on  the  radiant  forehead, 
her  body  dead,  her  soul  incapable  to 
die — let  her  remember  the  wrongs  of 
days  long  past ;  let  the  lost  and  wan- 
dering tribes  of  Israel  remember  theirs 
— the  manliness  and  the  sympathy  of 
the  world  may  allow  or  pardon  this  to 
them;  but  shall  America,  young,  free 
and  prosperous,  just  setting  out  on  the 
highway  of  heaven,  '  decorating  and 
cheering  the  elevated  sphere  she  just 
begins  to  move  in,  glittering  like  the 
morning  star,  full  of  life  and  joy' — 
shall  she  be  supposed  to  be  polluting 
and  corroding  her  noble  and  happy 
heart,  by  moping  over  old  stories  of 
stamp-act  and  tea-tax,  and  the  firing  of 
the  Leopard  on  the  Chesapeake  in  time 
of  peace  ?"  Here  rhetoric  is  doing  her 
best  office  in  serving  a  high  moral  pur- 
pose. This  was  a  man  born  to  address 
the  people.  At  a  national  crisis  he 
would  stand  forth  a  Patrick  Henry. 
In  fact,  it  was  some  such  union  of 
acuteness  with  fancy,  presided  over  by 
the  sympathetic  heart,  which  did  cha- 
racterize the  oratory  of  Henry. 


RrFUS 

In  18-i5,  Lis  term  being  ended, 
Mr.  Choate  retired  from  the  Senate, 
and  tlieneefortb,  "wdtli  the  exception  of 
an  occasional  lecture  or  public  address, 
occupied  himself  exclusively  with  the 
duties  of  his  profession.  He  took  part 
in  politics  by  the  side  of  Webster  and 
his  friends,  but  was  never  again  in 
office,  unless  we  except  his  service  in 
the  Constitutional  Convention  of  Mas- 
sachusetts in  1853.  Even  his  political 
speeches  were  prompted  rather  by 
friendship  and  devotion  to  the  conser- 
vative' cause  to  which  he  was  attached, 
than  by  any  desire  or  expectation  of 
personal  advancement.  His  occasional 
orations,  however,  were  too  intimately 
the  growth  of  his  peculiar  studies  and 
habits  of  thinking  not  to  stamp  his 
fame.  Long  before  his  death,  he  had 
acquired  a  reputation  in  a  department 
somewhat  at  this  day  the  peculiar  pro- 
perty of  American  genius.  Previously 
to  taking  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  he  had 
delivered  in  Boston,  in  1841,  the  eulogy 
on  President  Harrison,  dwelling  with 
great  feeling  on  the  benevolent  virtues 
of  his  character.  In  1843,  his  oration 
before  the  New  England  Society  at 
New  York  was  memorable  not  only 
for  its  extraordinary  eloquence,  but  for 
calling  forth  a  religious  controversy 
between  the  Kev.  Dr.  Waiuright,  after- 
ward the  Provisional  Bishop  of  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church  of  the 
diocese,  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Potts,  an  in- 
fluential Presbyterian  clergyman  of  the 
ci^y.  The  passage  of  the  discourse 
which  gave  rise  to  the  discussion,  was 
one  in  which  the  orator  pictured  the 
Pui'itans  flying  fi-om  persecution  in 
England  to  Geneva,  where  they  found 


CHOATE.  259 

"a  state  without  king  or  nobles;  a 
church  without  a  bishop."  The  senti- 
ment was  complimented  at  the  dinner 
in  the  evening,  and  a  reply  elicited 
from  Dr.  Wainright,  who  maintained, 
in  the  controversy  which  followed,  the 
scriptural  necessity  of  a  bishop  to  the 
true  church  organization. 

The  main  effort,  however,  of  Mr. 
Choate,  outside  of  his  profession  and 
his  speeches  in  the  Senate,  was  his  dis- 
course delivered  before  the  faculty, 
students  and  alumni  of  Dartmouth 
College,  in  the  summer  of  1853,  com- 
memorative of  Daniel  Webster.  To 
this  he  Avas  aroused  by  every  generous, 
intellectual  and  moral  feeling  of  his 
nature.  It  was  their  common  alma 
mater  before  whom  he  was  to  speak, 
and  it  was  of  the  great  orator  whose 
genius  no  man  more  admired,  and  the 
friend  whom  no  man  more  loved..  All 
the  finer  qualities  of  his  intellect,  all 
the  resources  of  his  talent,  his  books 
and  studies,  all  the  tender  sympathies 
of  his  heart,  were  freely  poured  forth 
in  this  admired  production.  ■  An  analy- 
sis of  it  would  be  the  discovery  of  the 
best  traits  of  his  peculiar  genius.  It 
is  no  ordinary  enumeration  of  th^e  ser- 
vices of  a  departed  great  man,  couched 
in  simple  appropriate  phraseology,  but 
teems  and  swells  with  the  burden  of 
great  thoughts  and  heartfelt  emotions. 
There  is  in  it  a  deep  under-current  of 
the  orator's  own  life,  as  he  utters  his 
long  rhythmical  sentences  in  words  and 
pauses  Hooker  or  Milton  would  not 
have  disdained.  The  fame  of  Webster 
is  poured  in  upon  the  mind  of  the 
reader  in  a  succession  of  ocean  v.^aves, 
borne  along  with  strength  and  breaking 


260 


RUFUS  CHOATE. 


into  particles  of  sparkling  brilliancy. 
The  force  of  enumeration  can  go  no 
further  than  it  has  been  carried  in  this 
oration.    It  has  been  somewhat  fanci- 
fully said  of  the  style  of  Mr.  Choate, 
in  reference  to  his  abundant  use  of 
adjectives,  that  he  "drove  a  substantive 
and  six ;"  but  the  Webster  eulogy  is 
not  made  up  of  adjectives,  but  of  mul- 
titudinous, component  members  of  sen- 
tences, eacb  a  part  of  a  majestic  whole. 
A  single   sentence,  in  one  instance, 
extends  through  several  octavo  pages, 
and  it  requires  a  rapid  mind  and  a 
long  breath  to  follow  it  to  the  end; 
but  nothing  in  it  is  superfluous  or  out 
of  place:  all  its  parts  are  accessories 
to  one  leading  exhibition  of  the  states- 
manship of  its  illustrious  subject.  The 
style  is  not  a  model  for  imitation :  it  is 
too  great  a  tax  on  the  attention  of  the 
reader,  and  still  greater  on  the  powers 
of  the  writer.    A  feeble  author  would 
infallibly  break  down  in  the  attempt, 
and  most  writers,  possessed  of  the  re- 
quisite matter,  would  be  confused  in  its 
utterance;   but  Mr.  Choate,  of  deep 
learning,  profound  reflection,  rapid  in 
the  imaginative  processes,  skilled  also 
in  the  arts  of  condensation,  trained  by 
his  profession  to  survey  every  means 
and  carry  the  whole  to  an  inevitable 
conclusion,  had  both  the  material  and 
the  power  to  direct  it :  the  parts  are  at 
once  complete  in  themselves  and  con- 
gruous to  the  whole. 

That  the  reader  may  not  consider  this 
praise  ill-bestowed,  we  venture  to  take 
one  or  two  of  these  long-breathed  sen- 
tences, to  afford  an  idea  of  the  rest.  ISTear 
the  opening  this  passage  occurs,  deep- 
toned  and  musical,  with  a  rhythmical 


utterance  flowing  from  the  soul  of  a  po- 
et, for  such  Rufus  Choate  undoubtedly 
was,  though  he  may  not  have  written 
a  line  of  verse.    He  is  speaking  of  the 
places  in  the  land  from  which  the 
incense  of  gratitude  might  naturally 
arise  to  the  memory  of  Webster,  pre- 
vious to  lighting  upon  the  special  pro- 
priety of  the  scene  of  his  own  discourse 
at  Dartmouth :  "  In  the  halls  of  Con- 
gress," he  said,  "  where  the  majestic 
form  seems  ever  to  stand  and  the  deep 
tones  to  linger,  the  decorated  scene  of 
his  larger  labors  and  most  diffusive 
glory;  in  the  courts  of  law,  to  whose 
gladsome  light  he  loved  to  return — 
putting  on  again  the  robes  of  that  pro- 
fession, noble  as  virtue,  necessary  as 
justice — in  which  he  found  the  begin- 
ning of  his  honors;  in  Faneuil  Hall, 
whose  air  breathes  and  burns  of  him ; 
in  the  commercial  cities,  to  whose  pur- 
suits his  diplomacy  secured  a  peaceful 
sea ;  in  the  cities  of  the  inland,  around 
which  his  capacious  public  affections 
and  wise  discernment,  aimed  ever  to 
develop   the  uncounted  resources  of 
that  other,  and  that  larger,  and  that 
newer  America;  in  the  pulpit,  whose 
place  among  the  higher  influences  which 
exalt  a  state,  our  guide  in  life,  our  con- 
solation in  death,  he  appreciated  pro- 
foundly and  vindicated  by  weightiest 
argument  and  testimony,  of  whose  ofii- 
cers,  it  is  among  the  fittest,  to  mark 
and  point  the  moral  of  the  great  things 
of  the  world,  the  excellency  of  dignity 
and  the  excellency  of  power  passing 
away  as  the  pride  of  the  wave — passing 
from  our  eye  to  take  on  immortality  ; 
in  those  places  and  such  as  these,  there 
seemed  a  reason   beyond,  and  other 


RUFUS 

than  the  universal  calamity,  for  such 
honors  of  the  grave."  Nothing  can  he 
strono-er,  nothins;  can  be  finer  than  this 
in  Greek  or  Roman  fame  of  oratory. 
The  noblest  lifs^s  everywhere  infused 
into  the  thought;  the  triumphs  of  life 
are  displayed ;  mortality  casts  its  solemn 
shadow  over  the  scene,  and  death  is 
swalloAved  up  in  victory. 

Again,  hear  him  speaking  of  the  elo- 
quence of  Webster  in  terrhs  which,  in 
this  noble  oration  at  least,  miffht  be 
aptly  applied  to  his  own :  "  The  same 
high  power  of  reason,  intent  to  explore 
and  display  some  truth ;  some  truth  of 
judicial,  or  historical,  or  biographical 
fact;  some  truth  of  law,  deduced  by 
construction,  perhaps,  or  by  illation; 
some  trutli  of  policy,  for  want  whereof 
a  nation,  generations,  may  be  the 
worse;  reason  seeking  and  unfolding 
truth:  the  same  tone  in  all  of  deep 
earnestness,  expressive  of  strong  desire 
that  that  which  he  felt  to  be  important 
should  be  accepted  as  true,  and  spring 
up  to  action;  the  same  transjDarent, 
plain,  forcible  and  direct  speech,  con- 
veying his  exact  thoijght  to  the  mind, 
not  sometliing  else  or  more ;  the  'same 
sovereignty  of  form,  of  brow  and  eye, 
and  tone  and  manner — everywhere  the 
intellectual  king  of  men  standing  be- 
fore you — that  same  marvellousness  of 
qualities  and  results,  residing,  I  know 
not  where,  in  words,  in  pictures,  in  the 
ordering  of  ideas,  in  felicities  indescri- 
bable, by  means  whereof,  coming  from 
his  tongue,  all  things  seemed  mended ; 
truth  seemed  more  true;  probability 
more  plausible ;  greatness  more  grand ; 
goodness  more  awful;  every  affection 
more  tender  than  when  coming  from 
n.— 33 


CHOATB.  261 

other  tongues — tliese  are  all  in  his 
eloquence.  But  sometimes  it  became 
individualized  and  discriminated  even 
from  itself;  sometimes  place  and  cir- 
cumstances, great  interests  at  stake,  a 
stage,  an  audience  fitted  for  the  highest 
historic  action,  a  crisis,  peisonal  or 
national,  upon  him,  stirred  the  depths 
of  that  emotional  nature  as  the  anger 
of  the  goddess  stirs  the  sea  on  which 
the  great  epic  is  beginning;  strong 
passions,  themselves  kindled  to  inten- 
sity, quickened  every  faculty  to  a  new 
life;  the  stimulated  associations  of 
ideas  brought  all  treasures  of  thought 
and  knowledge  within  command,  the 
spell,  which  often  held  his  imagination 
fast,  dissolved,  and  she  arose  and  gave 
him  to  choose  of  her  urn  of  gold; 
earnestness  became  vehemence,  the  sim- 
ple, perspicuous,  measured  and  direct 
language  became  a  headlong,  full  and 
burning  tide  of  speech, ;  the  discourse 
of  reason,  wisdom,  gravity  and  beauty, 
changed  to  Aeivorrj^,  that  rarest  consum- 
mate eloquence,  grand,  rapid,  pathetic, 
terrible  ;  the  aliquid  immensum  injvni- 
tumque  that  Cicero  might  have  recog- 
nized; the  master- triumph  of  man  in 
the  rarest  opportunity  of  his  noblest 
power,"  Truly  has  it  been  said  a  man 
finds  in  another  what  he  possesses  in 
himself  This  glorious  eulogy  is  more 
the  orator's  ideal  of  his  own  art,  than 
its  attainment  by  the  subject  of  his 
eulogy. 

Mr.  Choate  never  surpassed  this 
crowning  effort.  It  remains  the  monu- 
ment of  his  broken  life — for  that  life  was 
destined  not  long  after  to  close  in  the  full 
meridian  of  his  powers.  Some  two  years 
later,  in  1855,  he  received  an  injury  from 


262 


RTJFTJS  CHOATE. 


a  sprain  wliicli  led  to  confinement  and 
a  surgical  operation ;  his  health,  after 
this,  appeared  often  interrupted,  and 
finally  became  so  weakened  that  in  the 
summer  of  1859  he  sailed  for  Europe 
with  the  hope  of  mending  his  strength. 
He  became  so  ill  on  the  way  that  he 
was  forced  to  discontinue  the  voyage 
at  Halifax,  where  he  died  on  the  thir- 
teenth of  July,  at  the  age  of  sixty,  of 
an  affection  of  the  heart. 

In  estimating  the  character  of  Mr. 
Choate  the  reader  who  studies  him  in 
his  political  speeches  and  literary  ad- 
dresses must  remember  how  small  a 
portion  of  the  life  of  the  man  was  given 
to  these  things — that  he  was  first  and 
above  all  things  an  advocate  at  the  bar, 
pursuing  the  profession  of  the  law  in 
its  various  forms,  before  juries,  before 
judges,  in  the  lower  and  the  higher 
courts,  on  circuits,  in  the  supreme  judi- 
cature.   There  was  his  strength,  there 
his  energy  was  displayed.     It  was  a 
field  of  great '  importance  and  of  vast 
labors,  but  in  which,  as  we  intimated  at 
the  outset,  the  triumph  often  rose  and 
perished  on  the  instant.    To  the  court 
room  he  brought  all  the  prodigal  luxu- 
riance of  his  nature,  occasionally  letting 
his  fancy  run  riot  in  the  sweep  of  his 
illustrations.    His  manner  was  rapid, 
full  of  energy  to  violence,  and  he  some- 
times ran  into  the  grotesque,  shocking 
the  sensibilities  of  persons  "  content  to 
dwell  in  decencies  for  ever,"  though  we 
may  suppose  he  had  always  a  sufiacient 
motive  for  what  he  said  and  for  his 
manner  of  saying  it.    The  license  which 
he  took  seems,  at  any  rate,  to  have  ex- 
ercised no  unfavorable  influence  on  the 
jury,  for  he  generally  gained  his  cause. 


Still  the  anecdotes  related  of  him,  it 
has  to  be  admitted,  at  times  approach 
the  ludicrous,  and  he  must  be  pro- 
nounced guilty  of  humorous  extrava- 
gance— a  sin  which  will  be  leniently 
weighed  when  we  remember  the  liber- 
ties of  a  contrary  character  which  dull- 
ness so  often  takes,  and  that  a  certain 
excess  is  no  uncommon  attendant  upon 
genius.  No  man  can  be  so  energetic 
as  Mr.  Choate  was  and  crowd  so  much 
of  action  into  life  without  outstripping 
the  tame  processes  of  ordinary  men. 

His  eloquence  was  no  vulgar  blaze 
of  an  empty  straw  heap  to  dazzle  a 
crowd  for  a  moment,  but  a  light  sup- 
ported by  a  central  fire  which  might  be 
bui*nt  steadily.    The  quick  operations 
of  his  mind  were  cherished  by  early, 
laborious  and  profound  reading,  and  he 
never  relaxed  his  application.  Fond 
of  books  from  his  youth,  his  studies 
deepened  with  his  years,  till  they  in- 
cluded a  vast  range  of  literature,  art, 
and  science.    He  knew  the  great  men 
as  well  as  their  thoughts  in  the  great 
books  of  his  profession;  he  was  un- 
wearied in  his  study  of  the  Greek  and 
Roman  classics,  particularly  the  philo- 
sophical historians  Thucydides  and  Ta- 
citus ;  the  catalogue  of  his  library  shows 
how  little  new  or  old  escaped  him. 
With  the  fathers  of  English  thought, 
the  great  masters  of  English  style  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  when  it  had 
more  strength,  if  less  polish,  than  in  the 
so-called  Augustan  age  of  Queen  Anne, 
with  Bacon,  Milton  and  Locke,  and 
even  the  minor  essayists  and  poets  of 
that  prolific  era,  he  was  intimately  con- 
versant, and  they  taught  him  the  music 
and  vigor  of  his  style. 


JOHN  ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


The  late  major-general  of  the  army 
of  Mexico  aud  governor  of  Mississippi 
had.  a  noticeable  origin  in  his  European 
descent  from  a  Protestant  ancestry  in 
Germany,  of  tlie  days  of  tlie  Keforma- 
tion.  His  recent  faithful  biographer 
and  friend,  Mr.  J.  F.  H.  Claiborne,  men- 
tions a  tradition  of  a  citizen  of  Rome, 
of  the  family  of  the  Marcelli,  in  the 
time  of  Luther,  embracing  the  doctrines 
of  that  reformer,  fleeing  for  safety  to 
Westphalia,  and  in  the  joy  of  his  deli- 
verance, assuming  the  significant  name 
of  Quitman — a  free  man.  The  descend- 
ants of  this  refuge'e  for  conscience  sake 
became  settled  at  Cleves,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  which  city  we  find  the 
grandfather  of  our  American  hero  lo- 
cated as  military ,  inspector  under  the 
Prussian  government.  He  had  a  son, 
Frederick  Henry  Quitman,  who  received 
a  liberal  education  at  the  University  of 
Halle,  became  preceptor  in  one  of  the 
princely  houses  of  the  land,  turned  his 
attention  to  theology,  was  instructed 
and  ordained  at  Amsterdam,  and  sent 
to  the  Dutch  island  of  Curagoa  to  dis- 
charge the  duties  of  a  missionary. 
There  he  married  Anna  Elizabeth  Hu- 
eck,  the  daughter  of  an  influential  citi- 
zen, and  there  he  remained  engaged  in 
his  ministry  the  stated  period  of  twelve 
years,  when  he  became  entitled  to  his 


discharge  and  a  pension  in  Holland  for 
his  faithful  service.    A  simple  minded 
man  of  learning  and  piety,  to  whom 
his  study  and  flock  were  all  in  all,  he 
was  now  ill  at  ease  in  the  disturbed  at- 
mosphere of  European  society,  every- 
where tainted  with  the  Jacobinism  of 
the  Revolution.    In  this  perplexity  his 
thoughts  were   directed  to  America, 
where  the  lofty  moral   character  of 
Washington,  and  the  general  simplicity 
of  the  country,  presented  a  powerful 
attraction  to  a  mind  of  his  temper.  He 
accordingly  made  his  appearance  one 
day  in  the  United  States — an  emigrant 
Lutheran  clergyman  seeking  a  home  and 
refuge.    He  was  introduced  to  Wash- 
ington, the  object  of  his  admiration,  then 
seated  in  his  presidency,  at  Philadel- 
phia.   The  interview  was  one  of  great 
courtesy  on  the  one  part  and  reverence 
on  the  other.    The  general  made  inqui- 
ries concerning  Prussia,  which  led  of 
course  to  talk  of  the  great  Frederick, 
and,  in  natural  sequence,  of  the  eminent 
military  leaders,  ancient  and  modern, 
of  whom  Washington  pronounced  Han- 
nibal the  foremost.    The  Rev.  Dr.  Quit- 
man was  delighted  with  his  reception. 
In  a  memorandum  which  he  left  of  it 
he  recorded  his  impression  of  the  chief- 
tain's grave  and  reserved  rather  than 
haughty  manner,  his  countenance,  "me- 

268 


264 


JOHN  ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


ditative  and  sad  in  repose,"  and  his 
conversation  "  not  fluent  or  very  strik- 
ing except  for  its  common  sense."  He 
could  not  define  the  source  of  his 
emotion,  but  there  was  that  about  the 
President  which  he  could  not  forget. 
"There  is  not  so  much  grandeur," 
he  wiites,  "  on  any  throne  in  Europe." 

Shortly  after  this  honorable  entrance 
on  the  stage  of  the  new  world,  Dr. 
Quitman  settled  down  to  the  quiet  per- 
formance of  his  part  in  charge  of  a 
Lutheran  congregation  in  Schoharie, 
New  York,  removing  thence  in  1798  to 
Ehinebeck,  where  he  lived  for  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century,  engaged  in 
the  work  of  his  ministry,  corresponding 
in  his  prime  with  the  learned  men  of 
the  last  generation ;  published  a  curious 
book  on  Magic,  a  series  of  sermons  on 
the  Eeformation — and  survived  to  wit- 
ness the  success  in  life  of  his  distin- 
guished son. 

That  son,  John  Anthony,  was  born  at 
Ehinebeck,  September  1,  1798.  His 
childhood  was  noted  for  his  resolute, 
active  temper,  ever  busy  in  some  ath- 
letic sport  or  in  some  mechanical  device. 
At  twelve  he  was  placed  under  the  in- 
struction of  the  Eev.  Mr.  Wackerhagen, 
a  German  divine  in  Schoharie,  who  in- 
structed him  in  Greek  and  Latin.  He 
was  a  studious  youth  but  not  above  a 
boy's  passion  for  soldiering,  it  would 
appear,  from  the  zeal  with  which  he 
imitated  a  recruiting  sergeant,  in  enlist- 
ing a  little  troop  of  his  companions. 
His  studies  were  then  continued  at 
home  with  at  least  an  equal  devotion 
to  the  hardy  amusements  to  which  the 
country  life  of  the  neighborhood  invited 
him.    Lie  became  distinguished  for  his 


skill  and  strength  in  bodily  exercises 
and  his  success  in  hunting. 

With  these  qualifications  he  began 
life  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  as  tutor  at  the 
Hartwick  Academy  in  Otsego  County, 
New  York,  "  a  place  of  mountains,  val- 
leys, lakes  and  woods,"  as  he  wrote  to 
his  brother,  "where  it  freezes  in  June, 
and  the  sun  rises  and  sets  one  horn- 
later  than  in  Ehinebeck."     He  was 
industriously  employed  all  day  in  teach- 
ing  the   pupils    Greek,  Latin  and 
English,  and  modestly  admits  he  was 
hard  pressed  by  his  scholars  with  "  cross 
questions,"  though  he  managed  to  keep 
ahead  of  them. 

In  1818  he  was  promoted  to  an  ad- 
junct professorship  of  the  English  lan- 
guage at  Mount  Airy  College,  an  insti- 
tution kept  by  a  Frenchman,  at  Ger- 
mantown,  in  Pennsylvania.  He  lived 
a  year  there  with  a  motley  set  of  teach- 
ers an  English  Unitarian  minister  in 

the  classical  department,  a  lieutenant  of 
marines  in  the  mathematics,  "a  poor 
sheepish  Yankee "  for  his  colleague  in 
English,  a  great  politician,  Mr.  Mareno, 
in  Spanish,  and  an  odd  genius  from 
Buonaparte's  armies,  for  the  French. 
As  they  were  all  very  amiable,  their 
humors  must  have  relieved  the  tedium 
of  the  dull  work  of  education. 

Mr.  Quitman  passed  about  a  year  at 
Mount  Airy  when  his  genius  impelled 
him  to  something  more  active  and  ad- 
venturous. At  the  outset  he  had  an 
eye  on  his  father's  profession  as  a  clergy- 
man, but  this  inclination  he  soon  threw 
off  in  favor  of  the  law.  An  acquaint- 
ance which  he  had  made  with  Mr.  Piatt 
Brush,  a  lawyer  and  member  of  Con- 
a;ress  from  the  Chilicothe  district,  Ohio, 


JOHN   AKTHONY  QUITMAN. 


265 


led  liim  to  think  of  tiyiiig  his  fortune 

in  tlie  West.  The  desire  grew  upon  him 

and  on  the  coaipk^tion  of  his  school  en- 

o-ao-euient  he  determined  to  put  the  plan 

..11 

in  execution.  Keceiving  his  lathers 
blessing  at  the  old  home  at  Rhinebeck, 
mitten  out  for  his  remembrance — "  May 
the  God  of  poAver  and  wisdom  preserve 
thee,  my  son,  sound  in  body  and  mind, 
and  his  benevolence  and  favor  accom- 
pany you  through  a  long  series  of  future 
years" — ^he  made  his  way  to  Philadel- 
phia on  his  route  to  the  Alleghanies. 
Summing  up  his  finances,  which  were 
somewhat  diminished  by  the  interpola- 
tion of  a  Connecticut  bank  note,  which 
"like  sundry  other  wares  from  that 
state,  turned  out  a  counterfeit,"  he  found 
that  while  he  could  forward  his  baggage 
across  the  mountains  by  the  transporta- 
tion wagon  it  would  be  more  politic  for 
him  to  go  himself  on  foot.  He  accord- 
ingly, with  gun  and  knapsack,  and, 
what  was  a  better  provision,  the  rejoic- 
mg  spirit  of  youth,  jogged  along  till 
after  about  a  fortnight's  travel,  having 
"  enjoyed  himself  on  the  road  with  some 
pleasant  flirtations /I with  the  girls,"  als 
his  diary  records,  he  arrived  one  night 
at  the  beginning  of  ISTovember,  at  Pitts- 
burg. His  journey  thence  with  a  cheer- 
ful party  of  travellers  in  a  keel  boat 
down  the  Ohio,  is  a  picture  of  the 
past. 

The  accommodations  were  roua;h 
but  the  ladies  made  them  agreeable. 
There  were  a  Mrs.  Griffith  and  her 
mother,  of  the  Boudinot  family,  from 
New  Jersey.  The  young  lady  played 
on  the  flageolet  and  young  Quitman  on 
the  flute.  So  these  Arcadians  went  fif- 
ing down  the  river,  the  crack  of  the 


fowling  piece,  in  pursuit  of  game  on  the 
shore,  profitably  varying  the  concert. 
When  they  reached  the  Virginian  soil 
the  natives,  who  rejoiced  in  the  eupho- 
nious appellations  of  "  steamboats," 
"  snapping  turtles,"  and  "  half  horse  half 
alliofators  "  were  to  be  treated  with  "  red 
eye  "  or  "  rot  gut "  whiskey,  and  the  ope.- 
ration  was  required  to  be  rejieated  on 
first  making  fast  to  "  Old  Kaintuck." 
After  some  fifteen  days  of  this  pleasant 
journeying  our  ads^enturer  was  landed 
at  Portsmouth,  whence  he  was  to  pro- 
ceed to  his  friend  Col.  Brush,  who  was 
to  make  a  lawyer  of  him  at  Chilicothe. 
He  expected  to  perform  this  pilgrimage 
on  foot,  but  happily  fell  in  with  a  per- 
son wishing  to  send  a  horse  there,  and, 
establishing  his  credit  by  his  letters,  was 
allowed  to  ride  the  animal.  "  Cheered 
by  this  piece  of  good  luck,"  says  the 
Diary,  "  he  set  out  with  a  light  heart." 
Deer  were  so  plentiful  along  the  road 
that  he  shot  one  with  his  pistol,  near 
Piketon.  The  spoil  of  the  forest  paid 
that  night  for  his  bed  and  supper.  As  he 
dismounted  at  Chilicothe  he;  astounded 
the  waiter  by  a  round  Latin  quotation^ 
a  lingering  of  the  Academy,  borrowed 
from  the  journeyings  of  ^neas,  where 
he  congratulates  himself  on  a  resting, 
place  in  his  wanderings. 

The  pupil  is  to  have  a  home  with 
Col.  Brush,  and  the  benefit  of  instruc- 
tion in  his  office,  in  return  for  which  he 
is  to  teach  the  colonel  Spanish  and  his 
sons  the  classics.  After  several  months 
thus  spent  at  Chilicothe,  in  which  the 
student  is  assiduously  devoted  to  his 
profession,  mingling  in  the  society  of 
the  place,  but  suffering  nothing  to  dissi- 
pate his  attention,  avoiding  debt  and  ill 


266 


JOHN  ANTHONY  QTTITMAN. 


habits,  he  is  advanced  to  a  clerkship  in 
a  land  register's  office,  opened  by  a  bro- 
ther of  his  employer,  at  Delaware,  in  a 
new  district  of  the  State.  In  1820  this 
now  central  town  was  "  on  the  very 
edge  of  white  population,"  the  claims 
of  the  Indians  having  been  recently  ex- 
tinguished. Though  much  admired  by 
him  for  its  agricultural  capabilities  and 
its  many  natural  beauties,  the  region 
proved  but  a  dull  residence  for  the 
energetic  Quitman.  The  scarcity  of 
money  was  sensibly  felt  as  a  bar  to  rapid 
progress.  "  There  is  scarcely  money 
enough  among  our  farmers,"  he  wrote 
to  a  friend,  "  to  give  their  babies  to  cut 
their  first  teeth  with."  Everything  was 
paid  for  in  produce,  which  might  answer 
for  the  rude  living  of  the  farmers,  but 
offered  no  opportunities  for  professional 
success. 

His  thoughts,  in  fact,  were  already 
directed  to  the  South.  "  The  Southern 
States,"  he  wrote  to  his  father,  hold  out 
golden  prospects  to  men  of  integrity, 
application  and  good  acquirements. 
Money  is  there  as  plenty  as  it  is  scarce 
here,  and  a  good  reason  for  it ;  for  while 
not  a  single  article  of  our  produce  will 
command  cash,  their  cotton,  sugar,  tobac- 
co and  rice  are  always  in  demand,  and 
the  world  will  not  do  without  them." 
To  Natchez  accordingly  his  steps  are 
bent,  beckoned  thither  by  the  good  Mrs. 
Griffith,  the  lady  who  had  been  his 
fellow  traveller  in  the  keel  boat  on  his 
first  descent  of  the  Ohio.  He  starts  at 
the  beginning  of  November,  1821,  from 
the  village,  with  his  law  license  in  his 
pocket,  a  small  sum  of  money  collected 
from  his  clients,  a  good  horse  under 
him,  and  a  stock  of  healthy  experiences 


in  a  new  country,  sustained  by  industry 
and  self  denial.  It  was  a  rough  season 
for  travel.  The  river  was  clogged  with 
ice  as  he  crossed  it  to  Maysville,  and  the 
roads  were  so  smoothly  frozen  that  the 
mare  which  he  rode  became  lame.  He 
was  unhandsomely  deprived  of  the  ani- 
mal by  a  Kentucky  sharper  in  conjunc- 
tion with  a  knavish  landlord,  who  per- 
suaded him  to  "  swap"  for  a  noble  animal, 
the  only  horse  in  fact  "which  Brigadier- 
General  Somebody,  who  came  around 
once  a  year  to  muster  the  brigade,  would 
ride  on  such  occasions."  The  young 
lawyer  fell  into  the  snare,  paying  also 
twenty -five  dollars  addition  for  his  expe- 
rience; the  splendid  animal  soon  broke 
down  on  the  road,  and  the  rider,  giving 
up  all  thoughts  of  traversing  the  land 
to  Mississippi  as  he  had  intended,  on 
horseback,  was  compelled  to  sneak  into 
Louisville  after  nightfall  to  escape  the 
jeers  of  the  street.  Thence  he  made 
his  way  on  a  steamboat  to  his  place  of 
destination. 

It  is  well  worth  lingering  to  listen 
to  his  first  pleasant  impressions  of  the 
place.  The  letter  of  Mrs.  Griffith  intro- 
duced him  to  her  son,  little  older  than 
himself,  but  already  established  as  a 
leading  lawyer  of  the  city.  His  books, 
his  office,  his  friendship  were  at  the 
service  of  the  new  comer.  The  hospi- 
tality of  the  planters,  whose  wealth  was 
in  striking  contrast  to  the  poverty  of 
the  farmers  in  Ohio,  delighted  him. 
"  Their  very  servants,"  he  wrote  to  his 
father,  "  catch  the  feeling  of  their  own- 
ers and  anticipate  one's  wants.  Your 
coffee  in  the  morning  before  sunrise; 
little  stews  and  sudorifics  at  night,  and 
warm  foot-baths  if  you  have  cold ;  bou- 


JOHN   ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


267 


qiiets  of  fresh  flowers  and  mint-juleps 
sent  to  your  apartment ;  a  liorse  and 
saddle  at  your  disposal ;  eveiytliing  free 
and  easy  and  cheerful  and  cordial.  It 
is  really  fascinating,  and  I  seem  to  be 
leading  a  charmed  life  compared  with 
my  pilgrimage  elsewhere." 

By  the  aid  of  Mr.  Griffith,  he  was 
soon  introduced  to  a  profitable  practice, 
and  his  fortunes  were  still  more  en- 
hanced by  marriage,  in  1824,  wdth  a 
wealthy  heiress  of  the  city,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  gentleman  named  Turner,  who 
had  emigrated  from  Kentucky.  Mr. 
Quitman  was  now  getting  to  be  some- 
thing of  a  public  man.  Having  alwa5^s 
a  military  turn,  he  had  been  appointed 
brigade  inspector  of  militia,  with  the 
rank  of  major,  and  in  1827  was  brought 
forward  as  a  candidate  from  Natchez 
and  Adams  county,  for  the  legislature 
of  the  State.  His  biographer,  Mr.  Clai- 
borne, has  a  characteristic  anecdote  of 
the  contest  with  his  competitor.  Cap- 
tain Quitman,  as  he  was  then  called, 
entered  with  great  spirit  into  the  can- 
vass. He  traversed  every  section  of 
the  county,  and  just/jbefore  the  election 
attended  a  large  gathering  at  Hering's 
store,  the  extreme  precinct,  near  the 
Franklin  county  line.  He  went,  in  his 
usual  neat  dress,  but  soon  threw  off  his 
coat,  and  astonished  the  crowd  by  his 
feats  in  wrestling,  leaping  and  boxing. 
A  foot-race  was  got  up,  a  sweepstake 
for  six,  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,  and 
he  beat  the  fastest.  The  heavyweights 
from  Hoggatt's  cotton-gin  were  on  the 
ground,  and  he  lifted  more,  at  arm's 
length,  than  the  strongest  man  present. 
His  strength  of  arm  was  remarkable. 
By  this  time  a  fat  ox — the  prize  of  the 


day — was  driven  up,  the  tai-get  fixed  at 
sixty  yards,  and  the  shooting  com- 
menced. There  were  several  expert 
riflemen  on  the  ground,  among  whom 
was  the  noted  John  Hawkins,  the 
crack  shot  of  the  whole  country  round. 
No  one  would  shoot  against  him,  and 
"  Brown  Bess,"  as  he  called  his  favorite 
rifle,  without  the  odds.  To  the  aston- 
ishment of  the  crowd,  Quitman  refused 
the  odds  and  took  an  even  chance. 
The  contest  was  left  to  them.  Haw- 
kins's pride  was  aroused,  and  he  shot 
more  deliberately  than  usual.  Three 
times  they  tried  their  skill,  and  three 
times  the  veteran  was  beaten.  He 
seemed  thunder-struck  and  grief-smit- 
ten, angry  and  churlish.  At  length, 
however,  admiration  at  what  he  con- 
sidered as  something  almost  supernatu 
ral  got  the  better  of  him,  and  he 
stepped  up  to  Quitman,  and  taking  off 
his  hat,  said,  "  Sir,  you  have  done  what 
no  other  man  has  been  able  to  do. 
The  beef  is  yours,  and  John  Hawkins 
is  yours  too."  Quitman  took  his  hand, 
praised  his  shooting,  caressed  Brown 
Bess,  presented  him  the  beef,  and  pro- 
posed a  general  treat.  His  election  was 
secured. 

Thus  launched  on  the  flood  of  politics, 
he  continued  to  contend  or  float  with 
the  current  to  the  end.  Of  an  ambiti- 
ous nature,  he  sought  public  duties, 
civil  and  military,  as  the  highest  ob- 
jects of  earnest  citizenship.  His  legal 
ability  and  experience,  enabled  him  at 
once  to  be  of  use  in  the  legislature,  in 
the  determination  of  various  judicial 
reforms.  He  presently,  also,  received 
from  the  governor  the  appointment  of 
Chancellor  of  the  State,  and  became  so 


26S 


JOHN   ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


mucli  interested  in  its  duties,  as  to 
refuse  a  proffered  nomination  as  a  can- 
didate for  a  vacant  seat  in  the  United 
States  Senate.    In  1832,  lie  was  elected 
a  member  of  tlie  State  Convention,  for 
tlie  formation  of  a  new  constitution,  in 
which  he  opposed  the  adoption  of  the 
then  unprecedented  provision  for  the 
election  of  judges  by  the  people.   "  A 
constitution,"  he  maintained,  "  is  intend- 
ed not  merely  to  establish  a  frame  of 
government,  but  also  principally  to  de- 
fine and  limit  the  powers  of  the  several 
departments,  and  to  protect  the  private 
citizen  in  his  reserved  rights.  It  is  thus 
intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  minor- 
ity, to  protect  them  against  the  action 
of  the  majority;  to  protect  the  weak 
against  the  strong,  the  poor  and  infirm 
against  the  rich  and  powerful.  The 
judicial  department  is  to  apply  these 
restraints.   Is  it  not  therefore  improper, 
in  the  very  threshold,  to  place  this 
department  strictly  and  immediately 
under  the  influence  and  control  of  those 
who  are  to  be  restrained  V    By  these 
and  other  arguments,  addressed  to  the 
electors  of  Adams  county  before  the 
Convention,  he  sought  to  regulate  pub- 
lic opinion  on  this  important  topic, 
where  his  legal  mind  directed  him  to 
the  right  issue ;  and  though  he  subse- 
quently acquiesced  in  the  working  of 
the  new  system  when  the  change  was 
made,  we  may  take  this  excellent  docu- 
ment as  evidence  of  his  best  judgment 
on  the  matter.    The  new  Constitution 
on  going  into  operation,  certainly  was 
at  first  practically  in  his  favor,  for  he 
was  elected  by  the  people  chancellor 
under  its  provisions.    He   held  the 
office  for  two  years — marked  by  a  sad 


inroad  in  his  domestic  circle,  in  the  loss 
of  two  sons  by  the  cholera — resigning 
it  in  1834.  The  next  year  he  was 
chosen  to  the  State  Senate,  and  was 
made  its  President. 

These  multiplied  civil  duties,  how- 
ever, did  not  extinguish  the  old  war 
spirit  which  always  lurked  in  Quit- 
man's breast,  whether  chancellor  or 
law-maker.    On  the   entry  of  Santa 
Anna  into  Texas  in  1836,  there  was  a 
cry  for  succor  from  the  American  set- 
tlers, to  which  no  one  more  readily 
responded.    He  presided  at  a  public 
meeting  in  Natchez,  and  in  concert  with 
General  Houston,  organized  a  company 
of  recruits  for  Texas.    The  United 
States  being  then  at  peace  with  Mexico, 
he  conducted  his  men  quietly  across 
Louisiana   to  the   Sabine,   when  he 
was  elected  their  captain,  and  assumed 
a  warlike  attitude.    At  San  Augustine, 
his  first  resting  place  in  Texas,  he  was 
confronted  by  a  lawless  band  of  gam- 
blers, belonging  to  the  gang  which  had 
long  infested  the  Mississippi,  and  some 
of  whom  he  had  himself  driven  out  of 
Natchez  at  the  head  of  his  military 
company  of  Fencibles.    One  of  these 
desperadoes,  "  a  tall,  well  dressed  and 
fierce  looking  man,"  came  to  his  bedside 
at  midnight  with  a  bowie-knife  belted 
to  his  side,  and  a  large  duelling  pistol 
in  his  hand.    "  Fortunately,"  says  Cap- 
tain Quitman  in  his  diary,  "  I  had  on 
my  belt  pistols,  and  instantly  drawing 
one,  I  confronted  him  and  said,  '  Sir,  I 
know  you,  and  you  know  who  I  am. 
I  am  here  on  other  business,  and  desire 
no  quarrel  with  you ;  but  I  fear  you 
not.'    I  kept  my  eye   steadily  fixed 
upon  him.    We  stood  five  feet  apart, 


JOUN   ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


269 


and  my  intention  Avas  to  shoot  Lim 
down  upon  the  slightest  motion  of  his 
pistol.  He  glared  at  me  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, when,  to  my  surprise  and  great 
relief,  his  features  relaxed  into  a  smile, 
and  he  said,  '  Captain,  you  are  a  brave 
man,  and  I  will  be  your  friend.'  "  After 
this  incident.  Captain  Quitman  was 
able  to  divert  the  hostility  of  the  gam- 
blers from  his  party. 

On  entering  Texas,  he  found  the 
peaceful  inhabitants  abandoning  their 
property  in  flight,  before  a  threatened 
invasion  of  the  Mexicans  and  Indians. 
An  actual  conflict  seemed  imminent  at 
Nacogdoches,  which  he  boldly  entered 
and  guarded  mth  his  troops.  He  then 
pursued  his  way  southward,  and  joined 
General  Houston  two  days  after  the 
battle  of  San  Jacinto,  which  ended  this 
invasion.  On  Quitman's  return  home- 
ward by  the  Sabine,  he  was  fired  upon 
by  a  party  of  robbers,  and  saved  by 
the  interposition  of  the  gambler  whom 
he  had  so  courageously  faced  at  San 
Augustine.  The  campaign,  in  various 
acts  of  liberality  to  his  men,  cost  Cap- 
tain Quitman  a-pri^^^te  expenditure  of 
over  ten  thousand  dollars. 

In  the  same  year  with  this  Texan  ex- 
pedition he  was  an  unsuccessful  candi- 
date for  Congress,  a  defeat  which  does 
not  appear  to  have  affected  his  popu-. 
larity.  In  1839  he  visited  Europe  to 
negotiate  the  bonds  of  the  Planter's 
Bank  and  the  Mississippi  Railroad  Com- 
pany, sailing  from  New  York  in  the 
Sheridan,  one  of  the  "dramatic"  line 
of  packets.  He  was  landed  in  Ireland, 
saw  Cork  and  Dublin  ;  thence  to  Liver- 
pool, and  by  the  time-honored  route  of 
Stratford  and  Kenilworth,  to  London ; 
II.— 34 


across  the  sea  to  Rotterdam  and  into 
Germany,  to  the  home  of  his  ancestors 
in  Westphalia.  The  object  of  his  jour- 
ney in  the  sale  of  the  bonds  was  not 
accomplished,  the  market  being  sur- 
charged with  such  securities ;  but  he 
carried  home  with  him  the  full  measure 
of  novel  impressions  always  experienced, 
by  the  intelligent  observer  in  Europe 
from  the  new  world. 

Captain  Quitman  engaged,  on  his 
return  home,  in  his  legal  practice,  and 
was  much  interested  in  the  financial 
questions  of  his  State  till,  on  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  Mexican  war  and  the 
call  of  the  President  for  volunteers,  he 
was  received  into  the  army  as  briga- 
dier-general. In  this  capacity  he  joined 
General  Taylor  in  the  month  of  Au- 
gust, 1846,  at  Camargo  on  the  Rio 
Grande,  just  previous  to  the  advance 
to  Monterey.  Taylor,  whom  he  found 
"farmer-like,  frank  and  friendly,"  as- 
signed him  a  brigade  of  the  Tennessee 
and  Mississippi  regiments,  which  fell 
under  the  division  of  General  Butler. 

In  the  grand  attack  on  Monterey,  in 
September,  General  Quitman  was  en- 
gaged on  the  eastern  side  of  the  city, 
in  the  series  of  operations  more  especi- 
ally conducted  by  General  Taylor.  It 
was  his  fortune  to  lead  his  brigade  to 
the  assault  and  capture  of  Fort  Teneria, 
as  it  was  called  by  the  Americans,  one 
of  the  most  formidable  defences  of  the 
city.  It  was  gallantly  carried  under  a 
heavy  crossfire.  General  Quitman's 
horse  was  shot  under  him ;  he  was  sup- 
plied with  another,  dismounted  at  the 
critical  moment,  and  ran  with  his  men 
into  the  work.  The  advantage  thus 
gained  on  the  twenty-first  was  held  un- 


270 


JOHN  ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


der  great  difficulties  "by  the  brigade. 
"  The  position  was  uncomfortable ;  they 
were  exposed  to  an  incessant  cannonade, 
and  the  corpses  of  the  slaughtered 
Mexicans  had  become  offensive;  the 
weather  was  wet  and  cold;  they  had 
neither  blankets  nor  fire.    The  general 
sliared  the  fare  of  his  troops  and  estab- 
lislied  his  quarters  on  one  of  Ridgeley's 
guns.    It  was  here  his  faithful  servant 
Harry,  who  had  followed  the  assaulting 
column,  was  heard  remonstrating  with 
his  master,  and  imploring  him,  '  for  the 
sake  of  mistress  and  the  children,'  not 
to  expose  himself  so  much.    '  Take  care 
of  yourself,  Harry,'  said  the  general. 
'  Help  the  wounded ;  keep  as  near  me 
as  you  can.    I  must  push  on  with  the 
foremost,  and  trust  to  Providence.'"^ 
The  attack  upon  Monterey,  it  will  be 
remembered,  was  terminated  by  the 
conquest  of  the  city,  street  by  street 
from  its   opposite  sides.     This  last 
movement  was  conducted  at  one  ap- 
proach to  the  main  square  by  General 
Worth,  at  the  other  by  General  Quit- 
man, with  equal  danger  and  heroism. 
The   capitulation  which  ensued,  and 
which  became  the  subject  of  consider- 
able comment,  did  not  meet  the  views 
of  Quitman.    He  was  for  pushing  the 
war  at  once,  conquering  the  country 
and  annexing  it.    The  President,  Mr. 
Polk,  for  whose  compromise  measures, 
as  he  deemed  them,  he  entertained  lit- 
tle respect,  thought  otherwise.  But 
there  was  much  fighting  yet  to  be  done 
before  a  peace  was  conquered,  and  Quit- 
man was  to  have  his  share  of  it. 

At  the  time  the  troops  were  with- 

'  Claiborne's  Life  and  Correspondence  of  Quitman,  I. 
250. 


drawn  from  General  Taylor  for  Scott's 
line  at  Vera  Cruz,  General  Quitman 
was  at  Victoria,  whither  he  had  led  a 
large  body  of  the  Southern  regiments 
to  the  occupation  of  the  city.    In  Jan 
uary,  184Y,  he,  with  his  command,  con- 
sisting of  the  South  Carolina,  Georgia, 
and  Alabama  regiments,  marched  under 
General  Patterson  to  Tampico.  They 
were  thence  transported  with  the  army 
of  invasion  to  Vera  Cruz,  where  Quit- 
man had  his  share  in  the  operations  of 
the  investment  of  the  town.    At  the 
beginning  of  April  he  was  charged  to 
conduct  the  land  expedition  which  co- " 
operated  with  Commodore  Perry  in 
the  movement  against  Alvarado,  and 
performed  his  portion  of  the  work  with 
success.     The  surrender  of  the  town 
left  no  occasion  for  fighting,  but  there 
were  other  services  to  be  rendered  in 
conciliating  the  inhabitants   on  the 
march,  which  were  not  neglected. 

In  the  march  upward  to  Mexico, 
General  Quitman,  who  received  his 
commission  of  major-general  from  Wash- 
ington, dated  April  14th,  on  the  way, 
joined  General  Patterson  at  Jalapa, 
and  on  the  further  advance  to  Puebla, 
conducted  a  brigade  composed  of  the 
four  volunteer  regiments  from  South 
Carolina,  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and 
a  detachment  of  mounted  Tennesseans. 
At  Puebla  he  was  anxious  for  a  com- 
mand adequate  to  the  importance  of 
his  new  title,  but  the  complications  of 
the  several  divisions  were  such  that 
he  could  not,  at  once,  be  gratified  by 
the  commander-in-chief.  On  the  arrival 
of  reinforcements,  he  commanded  in  the 
advance  to  the  city  of  Mexico  a  division 
consisting  of  the  New  York,  South  Ca- 


JOHN   ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


271 


rolinn,  and  second  Pennsylvania  regi- 
ments, a  battalion  of  marines,  Steptoe's 
battery,  and  Gaither's  troop  of  horse. 
He  was  not  in  the  first  actions  on  the 
approach  to  the  capital,  being  left  in 
charge  of  the  important  depot  at  San 
Augustin;  but  Chapultepec  was  em- 
phatically his  victor}^  He  led  his 
troops  under  a  heavy  fire  to  its  formid- 
able defences,  and  when  the  work  was 
stormed,  hastened  along  the  causeway 
to  new  perils,  more  daring  even  than 
those  which  invested  the  proud  heights 
he  had  conquered.  The  assault  of  Cha- 
pultepec was,  every  way  considered,  one 
of  the  bravest  actions  of  the  war ;  its 
sequel,  the  successful  attack  upon  the 
Belen  gate,  was  Quitman's  own — he 
V7as  the  foremost  of  his  men  in  leading 
them  to  the  deadly  charge,  as,  "  black 
wdth  smoke,  and  stained  with  blood," 
he  leaped  upon  the  battery.  He  was 
in  the  van  of  the  American  army  on 
the  "  perilous  edge  of  battle,"  exposed 
to  a  thousand  dangers,  which  seemed 
no  ways  to  disturb  him.  He  smoked 
his  cigar  quietly,  gave  his  directions 
that  afternoon  of  the  thirteenth  of  Sep- 
tember, while  the  enemy's  batteries  were 
pla}dng  around  him,  confident  of  the 
success  of  the  movement.  That  night 
overtures  of  surrender  were  made,  and 
the  next  morning  General  Quitman  was 
the  first  to  enter  the  grand  plaza  of  the 
city  of  Mexico,  and  plant  the  banner 
of  his  country  upon  the  dome  of  the 
national  palace.  Let  the  reader,  to 
appreciate  the  scene,  banish  from  his 
mind  all  notions  of  a  holiday  parade, 
and  contemplate  for  a  moment  the  stern 
reality  of  this  proceeding.  He  must 
imagine,  not  a  splendid  pageant  of 


brilliantly-equipped  soldiers  in  these 
victors,  but,  in  the  language  of  an  offi- 
cer who  participn^ted  in  tlie  previous 
struggle,  a  body  of  worn-out  men,  ex- 
hausted by  toil  and  battle,  "  nearly  all 
of  us  covered  with  mud,  and  some  with 
blood ;  some  limping,  some  with  arms 
in  scarfs,  and  others  with  heads  in 
bandages,  followed  by  two  endless  lines 
of  gaping  lepers  and  rabble."  The 
brave  General  Quitman  himself,  in  this 
triumphal  procession,  it  is  said,  had 
but  one  shoe,  having  lost  the  other  in 
falling  into  a  canal  the  night  before. 
This  is  victory,  woe-worn,  begrimed,  ex- 
hausted ;  and  so  should  artists  paint 
the  scene  if  they  would  present  it  with 
power. 

General  Scott  arrived  immediately 
after  with  his  stafi",  and  doubtless  in 
better  attire,  and  appointed  General 
Quitman  governor  of  the  city.  The 
latter  left  the  following  month  for 
Washington,  to  urge  his  favorite  plan 
of  a  permanent  military  occupation  of 
the  conquered  country;  but  different 
views  prevailed,  and  the  treaty  of  peace 
ended  the  question. 

New  civil  honors  now  awaited  the 
victorious  general.  In  the  democratic 
nominating  convention  of  1848,  at  Bal- 
timore, he  was  talked  of  for  the  vice- 
presidency,  and  the  following  year  was, 
by  a  large  majority,  elected  governor 
of  his  State  of  Mississippi.  Oddly 
enough,  by  a  strange  medley  of  events, 
growing  out  of  his  sympathy  with  the 
invasion  of  Cuba  by  General  Lopez,  he 
resigned  the  office  in  the  middle  of  his 
term,  to  meet  the  requisition  of  the 
United  States  courts  for  his  trial  at 
New  Orleans  for  an  alleged  violation 


272 


JOHN  ANTHONY  QUITMAN. 


of  the  neutrality  law.  The  court  pro- 
ceeded with  tlie  trial  of  General  Hen- 
derson, who  was  charged  with  com- 
plicity in  the  affair,  but,  failing  to  con- 
vict, entered  a  nolle  prosequi  exonera- 
ting General  Quitman  with  the  rest. 
His  resignation  was,  with  his  well- 
known  views  on  the  subject  of  State 
rights,  an  instance  of  moderation  in 
avoiding  a  conflict  between  the  Federal 
and  State  authorities.  He  was,  more- 
over, at  the  time,  as  his  published  cor- 
respondence shows,  seriously  thinking 
of  secession,  as  a  means  of  redress  for 
what  he  pronounced  to  be  northern 
aggression  in  the  passage  of  Mr.  Clay's 
omnibus  bill.  The  course  of  political 
opinion  in  Mississippi  ran  counter  to 
these  views,  or  he  might,  perhaps,  have 
been  called  again  to  the  governor's 
chair. 

His  visit  to  his  native  Rhinebeck,  in 
New  York,  in  1853,  should  not  be  for- 
gotten. He  was  welcomed  in  a  general 
ga,thering  of  the  people,  and  addressed 
them  with  emotion,  recalling  the  time 
when,  thirty-four  years  since,  he  had 
gone  forth  "  a  portionless  adventurer, 
armed  only  with  the  stern  energies,  the 
untiring  industry  and  perseverance,  and 
the  good  principles  which  the  fathers 
of  this  good  old  county  of  Dutchess 
had  imparted  to  their  children:" 

In  1855  he  was  elected  to  the  House 
of  Representatives  of  the  Union,  was 
created  chairman  of  its  committee  on 
military  affairs,  and  distinguished  him- 
self by  an  elaborate  speech  advocating 
the  repeal  of  the  neutrality  laws.  At 
the  Presidential  nominating  convention 


of  this  year,  1856,  at  Cincinnati,  he  had 
the  highest  number  of  votes  on  the  first 
ballot  for  the  vice-presidency.  He 
spoke  at  length,  at  the  next  session  of 
Congress  in  December,  on  the  powers 
of  the  federal  government  with  regard 
to  the  Territories,  maintaining  of  course 
the  generally  received  Southern  view 
of  the  question.  He  was  again  elected, 
and  took  his  seat  in  the  next  Congress, 
speaking  frequently  with  his  accustom- 
ed energy.  His  health,  however,  was 
now  declining.  One  of  his  last  public 
acts  was  the  delivery  of  an  address  at 
Columbia,  South  Carolina,  at  the  second 
anniversary  of  the  Palmetto  Associa- 
tion, composed  of  the  survivors  of  the 
famed  regiment  of  that  name  in  the 
Mexican  war.  He  dwelt  upon  the  stir- 
ring events  of  those  campaigns  in  which 
he  had  been  a  participant,  and  recalled 
in  particular  the  memorable  incident  of 
his  great  scene  of  triumph  at  the  Belen 
gate,  when  a  son  of  South  Carolina,  the 
gallant  Lieutenant  Sellick,  planted  the 
Palmetto  flag  on  the  enemy's  battery, 
and  was  struck  down  by  a  severe 
wound  in  the  act. 

General  Quitman  survived  this  visit 
t©  South  Carolina  but  two  months. 
On  his  return  to  Washington,  he  was 
invited  to  take  command  or  preside 
over  a  large  gathering  of  volunteer 
militia  in  Natchez.  He  accepted  the 
invitation,  travelled  to  Natchez,  but 
failing  health  debarred  him  from  the 
welcome  honor.  He  sank  rapidly  into 
a  fatal  lethargy,  and  expired  at  his 
home  at  Natchez,  July  17,  1858,  at  the 
age  of  fifty-nine. 


STEPHEN    ARNOLD  DOUGLAS. 


The  family  of  this  eminent  states- 
man early  came  to  America  from  Scot- 
land, three  generations  being  mentioned 
by  his  biographer  as  living  in  the 
United  States.  His  grandfather,  a  na- 
tive of  Pennsylvania,  was  a  soldier 
of  Washington,  and  was  with  that 
great  commander  at  Valley  Forge  and 
Yorktown,  A  son,  born  in  New 
York,  who  is  spoken  of  as  "a  phy- 
sician of  high  repute,"  was  the  father 
of  the  subject  of  this  sketch.  Ste- 
phen A.  Douglas  was  born  at  Bran- 
don, Vt,  April  23,  1813.  His  father 
died  in  the  infancy  of  the  child.  The 
boy  was  educated  in  the  common 
schools  till  the  age  of  fifteen,  when, 
having  exhibited  an  aptitude  for  learn- 
ing, and  a  proper  perseverance,  he 
would  have  continued  his  studies  at 
college.  The  family  affairs,  however, 
did  not  admit  of  this  expense.  Being 
resolved  to  earn  his  own  living,  he 
then  apprenticed  himself  to  a  cabinet- 
maker. He  worked  at  this  trade  for 
eighteen  months,  when  he  relinquished 
it  as  injurious  to  his  health.  Eeturn- 
ing  to  his  studies,  he  entered  the  aca- 
demy at  Brandon,  and  when  the  family 
the  next  year  removed  to  Canandaigua, 
New  York,  he  also  studied  in  the 
demy  at  that  place,  and  subsequently 
in  the  law  office  of  Mr.  Hubbeil.  At 


the  age  of  twenty,  in  1833,  he  left  for 
the  West,  to  establish  himself  as  a 
lawyer  in  that  region.  Several  cities, 
Cincinnati,  Louisville,  St.  Louis,  are 
mentioned  as  places  of  his  sojourn  be- 
fore he  found  a  permanent  home  in  Illi- 
nois. He  began  his  career  there  by 
opening  a  school  at  Winchester,  near 
Jacksonville,  where  he  taught  forty 
pupils,  giving  his  energies  meanwhile, 
to  the  study  of  the  law.  In  1834  he 
was  admitted  to  the  bar  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  and  immediately  entered  upon 
the  active  practice  of  the  profession. 

Ardent,  resolute,  possessed  of  rare 
reasoning  powers,  it  was  not  long  before 
he  became  absorbed  in  that  political 
career  in  which  he  was  destined  to  at- 
tain an  extraordinary  eminence.  Be- 
fore the  age  of  twenty-two  he  was 
elected  by  the  Legislature,  Attorney- 
General  of  the  State,  the  competitor  for 
the  office  being  the  distinguished  Colo- 
nel John  J.  Hardin.  The  next  year, 
1836,  he  was  elected  by  a  Democratic 
vote  to  the  Legislature ;  the  year  after 
received  the  appointment  from  Presi- 
dent Van  Buren  of  Register  of  the 
Land  Office,  at  Springfield,  and  the 
same  year  was  a  Democratic  candidate 
for  Congress.  He  would  have  been 
pronounced  elected,  had  not  a  few 
votes  on  which  his  name  was  misspelt, 

2T3 


274 


STEPHEN  ARNOLD  DOTTG1.AS. 


been  tlirown  out,  which  gave  a  majo- 
rity of  five,  out  of  more-  than  forty 
thousand  votes  cast,  to  the  Wliig  can- 
didate. Pursuing,  meanwhile,  his  pro- 
fession of  the  law,  he  entered  eagerly 
into  the  canvass  for  Van  Buren  in  the 
Presidential  campaign  which  resulted 
in  the  election  of  General  Harrison. 
His  promotion  in  Illinois  was  now 
rapid.  Appointed  Secretary  of  State 
in  1840,  he  was  the  next  year,  at  the 
early  age  of  twenty-seven,  elected  by 
the  Legislature  a  judge  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  and  discharged  the  duties  of 
that  office  till  1843,  when  he  was  elected 
to  Congress.  He  was  twice  reelected, 
in  1844  and  1846,  when  his  career  in 
the  House  of  Representatives  was  ar- 
rested by  the  Legislature  of  his  State 
electing  him  as  a  Senator  for  the  full 
term  of  six  years,  commencing  vnth  the 
Congress  of  1847.  He  was  twice  re- 
elected to  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States,  his  duties  in  this  body  terminat- 
ing only  with  his  life.  In  the  last  elec- 
tion, in  1858,  his  competitor  was  Abra- 
ham Lincoln.  The  election  is  a  memo- 
rable one  for  the  closeness  of  the 
popular  contest  preceding  it,  and  the 
discussion  of  principles  by  both  candi- 
dates, who  conducted  the  canvass  in 
person.  At  Chicago,  Springfield;  at 
Ottowa,  Freeport,  Jonesboro,  Charles- 
ton ;  at  Galesburg,  at  Quincy,  at  Alton, 
on  seven  occasions  in  joint  debate,  they 
followed  one  another  in  the  discussion 
of  the  principles  of  the  rapidly  develop- 
ing Republican  party,  which  then  began 
deeply  to  agitate  the  nation.  The  result 
of  the  election  was  a  Democratic  Legis- 
lature, which  returned  Mr.  Douglas  to 
the  Senate  l^y  a  majority  of  eight  votes. 


In  his  long  career  of  eighteen  years 
in  the  Halls  of  LegisLation  at  Washing- 
ton, Mr.  Douglas  earned  an  eminent 
reputation  by  his  force  of  mind,  his 
energy,  and  determination.  Adopting 
generally  the  principles,  and  advocat- 
ing the  policy  of  the  Democratic  party, 
a  supporter  of  the  ultra  Oregon  Claim, 
of  the  annexation  of  Texas,  of  the  ap- 
plication of  the  Monroe  Doctrine,  of 
the  peaceful  acquisition  of  Cuba,  and 
the  like  measures ;  ever  the  indefatiga- 
ble advocate  of  Western  interests  in 
the  development  of  the  great  resources 
of  that  region ;  he  struck  out  a  path 
for  himself  in  his  advocacy  of  his  favo- 
rite doctrine  of  Popular  Sovereignty,  a 
theory  by  which  he  sought  to  solve 
the  pressing  difficulties  of  slavery  in 
the  Territories,  and  for  the  practical 
adoption  of  which  he  endeavored  to 
prepare  the  way  by  the  introduction  of 
the  Kansas  and  Nebraska  bill. 

The  passage  of  that  act  in  1854,  by 
its  abolition  of  the  Missouri  Compro- 
mise, restricting  slavery,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  Missouri,  to  the  territory 
south  of  the  northern  line  of  Arkan- 
sas, was  the  prelude  to  the  fearful 
contest  which  immediately  ensued  in 
Kansas,  and  undoubtedly  opened  the 
way  for  the  adverse  political  issues 
which  preceded  the  present  rebellion. 
How  far  Mr.  Douglas  was  responsible 
for  letting  loose  upon  the  public  this 
angry  strife,  it  is  not  necessary  here  to 
inquire.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  his  the- 
ory of  Popular  Sovereignty,  beset  with 
difficulties  of  the  most  formidable  char- 
acter, failed  to  work  well  in  practice, 
and  was  not  only  rejected  by  a  great 
body  of  his  countrymen  of  a  different 


STEPHEN   ARNOLD  DOUGLAS. 


275 


s;'l!o;>l  of  politics,  but  embarrassed  liim 
greatly  with  the  members  of  Lis  own 
party,  whose  ultra  pretensions  lie  was 
compelled  to  oppose  in  his  able  resist- 
ance to  the  Lecompton  Pro-slavery  Con- 
stitution, when  an  attempt  was  made 
to  force  that  measure  upon  Congress. 

Mr.  Douo-las  was  on  three  occasions 
a  candidate  in  the  Democratic  conven- 
tions for  the  Presidency — in  1852,  when 
General  Pierce  was  chosen ;  more  par- 
ticularly at  Cincinnati,  in  1856,  when 
the  sixteenth  ballot  stood  122  for  him, 
to  168  for  Mr.  Buchanan,  and  he  gene- 
rously withdrew  his  name  that  his 
rival  might  receive  the  requisite  two- 
thirds  vote;  and  again  in  1860,  at 
Charleston  and  Baltimore,  when  he  re- 
ceived the  nomination,  though  the  con- 
test ended  in  the  disruption  of  the  De- 
mocratic party.  In  the  last  election 
there  were  three  candidates  in  the  field, 
the  representatives  of  as  many  shades 
of  opinions  in  regard  to  the  great  ques- 
tions of  the  time.  John  C.  Brecken- 
ridge  of  Kentucky,  represented  the 
ultra  pro-slavery  doctrines  of  the  South, 
denjnng  the  power  of  Congress  to 
abolish  or  prohibit  the  introduction  of 
"  the  peculiar  institution  "  in  the  Terri- 
tories, and  demanding  for  it,  if  neces- 
sary, protection  from  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment. Diametrically  opposite,  Abra- 
ham Lincoln  was  the  exponent  of  the 
views  of  the  Republican  party,  which, 
by  its  "  platform  "  at  Chicago  opposed 
the  doctrine  as  a  dangerous  political 
heresy,  fruitful  of  evils,  and  revolution- 
ary in  its  tendency,  maintaining  that  the 
Constitution  "  of  its  own  force  "  carries 
slavery  into  any  of  the  Territories.  This 
party  held  that  "  the  normal  condition 


of  all  the  territory  of  the  United  States 
was  that  of  freedom,"  and  that  it  was 
the  duty  of  Congress  on  all  proper  oc- 
casions to  assert  the  principle.  Holding 
a  medium  position  between  the  two,  in 
his  doctrine  of  non-intervention  or  Pop- 
ular Sovereignty,  Mr.  Douglas  sought 
to  solve  the  difficulty  by  removing  the 
question  from  Congress  to  the  Terri- 
tories themselves,  and  leaving  the  peo- 
ple to  regulate  their  affairs  in  their  own 
way.  The  position  of  Mr.  Douglas 
was  thus  a  species  of  compromise  be- 
tween the  other  parties;  an  effort  to 
hold  the  balance  between  the  North 
and  South  to  obviate  the  threatened  en- 
counter. The  question  was  given  to 
the  people,  and  the  distracted  councils 
of  the  Democratic  party  threw  the 
election  in  favor  of  the  Republicans. 
Of  the  elective  popular  vote  of  more 
than  four  millions  and  a  half,  Mr 
Douglas  received  over  one  million  three 
hundred  thousand,  within  about  five 
hundred  thousand  of  the  vote  of  Mr 
Lincoln.  The  Breckenridge  vote  was 
over  eight  hundred  thousand.  Large 
as  his  ao'OTeo'ate  vote  was,  Mr.  Douo^las 
had  the  majority  only  in  a  single  State 
— Missouri.  In  his  own  State  of  Illi- 
nois the  vote  stood  for  Douglas  160,215 ; 
for  Lincoln  1*72,161. 

The  announcement  of  this  result 
brought  the  threatened  crisis.  The 
Southern  Slave  States  began  the  work 
of  revolt,  and  before  the  newly-elected 
President  took  his  seat.  Secession  was 
inaugurated  in  South  Carolina  and  the 
Gulf  States.  It  was  a  time  which  re- 
quired all  men  to  declare  their  alle- 
giance. To  the  honor  of  Senator 
Douglas  he  did  not  falter  in  his  de- 


2i6 


STEPHEN  ARNOLD  DOUGLAS. 


cision,  but  raised  Lis  voice  clearly  and 
unequivocally  for  the  preservation  of 
tlie  Union  and  tlie  maintenance  of  its 
riglitful  authority.  While  compromise 
and  reconciliation  were  even  talked  of 
in  the  opening  of  the  last  session  of 
Congress  in  President  Buchanan's  ad- 
ministration, he  urged  an  amicable  set- 
tlement of  the  difficulty,  but  when  all 
peace  propositions  had  failed,  and  the 
question  was  Union  or  Disunion,  he 
was  for  a  manly,  determined  opposition 
to  the  Southern  Rebellion.  On  return- 
ing home  from  the  Senate  after  the  in- 
auguration of  President  Lincoln,  when 
the  patriotism  of  the  country  was 
aroused  by  the  attack  upon  Fort  Sum- 
ter; in  thrilling,  animated  speeches  in 
Ohio  to  the  people  of  Wheeling  and  its 
vicinity ;  before  the  Legislature  of  Illi- 
nois at  Springfield,  and  at  a  popular 
meeting  of  citizens  at  Chicago,  on  the 
1st  of  May,  1861,  he  gave  expression  to 
the  voice  of  the  nation  in  words  of 
stirring  eloquence.  "  That  the  present 
danger  is  imminent,"  said  he,  "  no  man 
can  conceal.  If  war  must  come — if  the 
bayonet  must  be  used  to  maintain  the 
Constitution — I  can  say  before  God  my 
conscience  is  clear.  I  have  struggled 
long  for  a  peaceful  solution  of  the  diffi- 
culty. I  have  not  only  tendered  those 
States  what  was  theirs  of  right,  but  I 
have  gone  to  the  very  extreme  of  mag- 


nanimity. The  return  we  receive  is 
war,  armies  marched  upon  our  capital, 
obstructions  and  dangers  to  our  naviga- 
tion, letters  of  marque  to  invite  pirates 
to  prey  upon  our  commerce,  a  concerted 
movement  to  blot  out  the  United  States 
of  America  from  the  map  of  the  globe. 
The  question  is,  are  we  to  maintain  the 
country  of  our  fathers,  or  allow  it  to  be 
stricken  down  by  those  who,  when  they 
can  no  longer  govern,  threaten  to  de- 
stroy ?"  The  answer  was  given  by  him 
in  no  doubtful  terms.  Had  his  life 
been  spared  the  Union  would  have  had 
no  more  strenuous  or  efficient  supporter 
of  its  paramount  claims  upon  the  peo- 
ple. 

Immediately  after  this  speech  Sena- 
tor Douglas  became  confined  to  his 
room,  by  an  attack  of  rheumatism, 
which  did  not,  however,  prevent  his  dic- 
tating a  letter  to  a  political  committee, 
urging  the  consolidation  of  parties  in 
the  defence  of  the  country.  "  A  man," 
said  he,  "cannot  be  a  true  Democrat 
unless  he  is  a  loyal  patriot."  This  was 
the  last  utterance  of  a  dying  statesman. 
Fever  presently  set  in,  and  after  a  fort- 
night's illness.  Senator  Douglas  died  at 
Chicago,  on  the  third  of  June.  His 
latest  words  were  spoken  to  his  wife, 
a  legacy  of  advice  to  his  children: 
"  Tell  them  to  support  the  Constitution 
and  the  Laws-" 


1  'f 

i 


] 


I 


1 


I 


JOHN  J.  CRITTENDEN. 


The  last  survivor  of  tlie  race  of  emi- 
nent political  leaders,  who  for  a  whole 
generation  brilliantly  illustrated  the 
Whig  party  in  the  United  States  Sen- 
ate ;  the  friend  of  Clay  and  the  associ- 
ate of  Webster,  who  lived  to  carry  their 
principles,  enforced  by  a  personal  cha- 
racter of  purity  and  integrity,  into  an 
entirely  new  era  of  his  country's  history; 
John  J.  Crittenden,  was  born  in  Wood- 
ford County,  Kentucky,  about  the  year 
1785.    His  father,  a  farmer  of  the  State, 
met  his  death  by  a  singular  accident. 
He  was  killed  by  the  fall  of  a  tree 
while  his  son  was  quite  young,  leaving 
him  to  the  care  of  his  mother,  by  whom 
he  was  trained  to  a  career  of  industry 
and  honor.  Educated  to  the  profession 
of  the  law,  he  began  practice  in  Hop- 
kinsville,  whence  he  soon  removed  to 
Frankfort,  where  he  entered  upon  a 
highly  successful  career  as  a  lawyer. 
His  official  political  life  dates  from  the 
year  1816,  when,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
one,   he  was   elected  from  Franklin 
County  to  the  Kentucky  House  of  Ke- 
presentatives,  of  which  he  was  chosen 
Speaker.    A  choice  of  this  kind  in  an 
assembly  distinguished  for  ready  debat- 
ing talent,  generally  marks  the  success- 
ful candidate,  in  whom  quickness,  acu- 
men, breadth  of  mind,  and  knowledge 
of  the  world  are  commonly  required 
n.— 35 


for  higher  political  advancement.  In 
the  case  of  Mr.  Crittenden  it  was  the 
first  step  in  his  rapid  promotion  to  the 
highest  honors  in  the  gift  of  his  native 
State.    He  was  presently  elected  to  the 
United  States  Senate  for  the  balance 
of  a  term,  taking  his  seat  in  December, 
1817,  in  the  first  Congress  under  the 
presidency  of  Monroe,  of  whose  admin- 
istration, he  was  a  supporter- "  During 
this  Congress  we  find  him  speaking  in 
opposition  to  the  sedition  law  of  Presi- 
dent Adams'  party,  the  subject  having 
come  up  on  a  question  of  reimbursing 
the  fines  imposed   under  that  enact- 
ment ;  and  in  favor  of  the  principle  of 
freely  giving  the  public  lands  of  the 
West  to  actual  settlers.  On  the  expira- 
tion of  this  Congress  he  resumed  the 
practice  of  the  law  at  Frankfort,  at 
which   he  continued,  serving  several 
terms   in  the   State   legislature,  till 
the  year  1835,  when  he  again  enter- 
ed the  United  States  Senate,  serving 
through  the  last  two  years  of  General 
Jackson's  administration  and  the  whole 
of  Yan  Buren's,  till  the  accession  of 
President  Harrison,  in  whose  cabinet 
he  was  appointed  attorney-general.  The 
early  death  of  Harrison  caused  his  re- 
signation, when  he  was  at  once  restored 
Dy  the  Kentucky  legislature  to  the  Se- 
nate, in  which  the  retirement  of  Mr. 

277 


278 


JOHN   J.  CRITTENDEN. 


Clay  Lad  created  a  vacancy.  On  tlie 
expiration  of  this  term  he  was  a  second 
time  returned  for  the  full  period  of  six 
years,  which  he  had  nearly  completed, 
when,  in  1848,  he  resigned  to  become 
governor  of  his  native  State,  to  which 
office  he  was  triumphantly  elected  by 
the  Whig  party.  In  1850,  under  the 
administration  of  President  Fillmore, 
he  is  again  at  Washington,  a  second 
time  seated  in  the  cabinet,  the  associate 
of  Daniel  Webster,  as  attorney- general. 
He  held  the  office  for  more  than  two 
years,  till  the  accession  of  President 
Pierce,  In  1855,  he  was  again  return- 
ed to  the  Senate  for  the  full  term  of 
six  years. 

During  all  this  time  Mr.  Crittenden 
supported  the  principles  of  his  eminent 
fellow-representative  in  the  Senate, 
Henry  Clay,  and  of  the  Whig  party 
generally,  distinguishing  himself  by  his 
advocacy  of  a  protective  tariff,  and  his 
opposition  to  the  anti-bank  measures  of 
President  Jackson,  the  sub-treasury 
system  of  Van  Buren,  and  the  annexa- 
tion of  Texas.  In  his  relations  to  the 
great  questions  of  foreign  policy  of  his 
time,  the  war  with  Mexico  and  the  Ore- 
gon boundary  difficulty,  he  was  on  the 
side  of  moderation,  desirous  that  the 
first  should  be  terminated  as  speedily 
as  possible  consistent  with  the  national 
honor,  and  deprecating  any  violent 
action  on  the  latter.  In  two  instances 
he  showed  his  sympathy  with  the  peo- 
ple of  Europe;  in  his  introduction  of 
the  bill  into  the  Senate,  authorizing  the 
purchase  of  provisions  and  their  trans- 
portation in  a  public  ship  to  the  poor 
of  Ireland,  and  in  his  prompt  advocacy 
of  a  recognition  of  the  popular  move- 


ment in  France  in  the  Revolution  of- 
1848.  The  main  features  of  his  states- 
manship were  embraced  in  his  persist- 
ent inculcation  of  a  home,  national,  con- 
servative policy ;  free  alike  from  fo- 
reign entanglement  and  domestic  broils. 
Thus,  in  common  with  Mr.  Clay  and 
other  prominent  members  of  his  party, 
he  sought  a  conciliatory  course  on  the 
subject  of  the  growing  political  difficul- 
ties between  the  North  and  the  South. 
The  conclusion  of  his  last  Senatorial 
term  in  which,  during  the  stirring  con- 
flicts arising  from  the  disturbed  state 
of  affairs — the  incipient  civil  war — in 
Kansas,  he  endeavored  to  pursue  an 
independent  middle  path,  brought  him 
to  the  first  stage  of  the  Great  Rebellion 
at  the  end  of  President  Buchanan's  ad- 
ministration. No  one  at  this  time  in 
Congress  was  more  active  in  devising 
plans  and  expedients  of  conciliation  to 
stay  the  South  in  its  threatened  revolt. 
He  advocated  an  amendment  to  the 
Constitution  denying  to  Congress  the 
power  to  abolish  slavery  in  the  District 
of  Columbia  while  it  existed  in  Mary- 
land and  Virginia ;  or  to  abolish  it  in 
places  under  its  exclusive  jurisdiction 
in  any  of  the  slaveholding  States. 
He  would  have  had  these  and  other 
provisions  of  a  like  nature  unalterable. 
When  the  result  of  the  labors  of  the 
Peace  Conference,  proposing,  among 
other  measures,  an  extension  of  the  line 
of  the  Missouri  Compromise  to  the  Pa- 
cific, denying  to  Congress  any  inter- 
ference with  slavery  in  the  territories 
below  that  parallel,  was  laid  before  the 
Senate,  Mr.  Crittenden  was  placed  at 
the  head  of  the  committee  appointed 
for  their  consideration.    They  were  re- 


JOHN  J.  CRITTENDEN. 


2Y9 


ported  witlioiit  alteration  by  the  com- 
mittee ;  but  tlie  Senate,  as  a  body,  was 
not  disposed  to  entertain  tliem.  Wliile 
some  preferred  the  Eesolutions  previ- 
ously offered  by  Mr.  Crittenden,  the 
majority  refused  to  receive  either.  It 
was,  in  fact,  too  late  for  conciliation. 
South  Carolina  had  taken  the  initiative 
of  revolt.  The  rebellion  was  an  ac- 
complished fact. 

To  the  next  Congress,  the  first  of 
President  Lincoln's  administration,  Mr. 
Crittenden  was  returned  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  House  of  Eepresentatives. 
Accepting  the  war  as  an  inevitable 
necessity  for  the  preservation  of  the 
Union,  in  the  words  of  his  Resolution 
of  the  22d  of  July,  1862,  "  forced  upon 
the  country  by  the  disunionists  of  the 
Southern  States,  now  in  arms  against 
the  constitutional  government,  and  in 
arms  against  the  capital,"  he  strove  to 
limit  its  objects  to  the  simple  preserva- 
tion of  the  Union ;  or  in  the  further 
words  of  the  Resolution,  "  that  in  this 
national  emergency,  Congress,  banish- 
ing all  feelings  of  mere  passion  or  re- 
sentment, will  recollect  only  its  duty 
to  the  whole  country ;  that  this  war  is 
not  waged  on  their  part  in  any  spirit 
of  oppression,  or  for  any  purpose  of  con- 


quest or  subjugation,  or  purpose  of 
overthrowing  or  interfering  with  the 
rights  or  established  institutions  of 
those  States,  but  to  defend  and  main- 
tain the  supremacy  of  the  Constitu- 
tion, and  to  preserve  the  Union  with 
all  the  dignity,  equality,  and  rights 
of  the  several  States  unimpaired ;  and 
that  as  soon  as  these  objects  are  ac- 
complished, the  war  ought  to  cease." 
The  Resolution,  which  fully  indi- 
cates the  cautious  conservatism  of  Mr. 
Crittenden,  was  almost  unanimously 
adopted. 

In  Kentucky,  Mr.  Crittenden  remain- 
ed a  staunch  defender  of  the  Union, 
supporting  the  war  measures  of  the  ad- 
ministration, and  upholding  the  fidelity  • 
of  his  native  State.  When,  after  many 
severe  shocks  of  war,  its  position  as  a 
member  of  the  old  United  States  seem- 
ed fully  confirmed,  the  venerable  pat- 
riot, at  the  age  of  seventy-seven,  on  the 
26th  of  July,  1863,  died  at  his  home 
at  Frankfort.  He  sank  under  general 
debility,  while  his  faculties  were  main- 
tained  to  the  last.  His  remains  were 
interred  with  distinguished  honors  in 
the  family  burial  place  in  the  beauti- 
ful Cemetery  of  the  city  overlooking 
the  Kentucky  River. 


WILLIAM   HENRY  SEWARD. 


The  family  of  this  eminent  statesman 
is  traced  to  a  Welsh  ancestor,  who 
came  to  Connecticut  in  the  reign  of 
Queen  Anne.  A  branch  of  this  parent 
stock  removed  to  New  Jersey,  where, 
during  the  War  of  the  Revolution, 
Colonel  John  Seward,  the  grandfather 
of  the  subject  of  this  notice,  sustained 
the  character  of  a  zealous  patriot,  and 
supporter  of  the  army  of  Washington. 
His  son,  Samuel  S.  Seward  received  a 
liberal  education,  studied  medicine,  and 
marrying  Mary  Jennings,  the  daughter 
of  Isaac  Jennings,  of  Goshen,  New 
York,  removed  in  1795,  to  Florida,  a 
village  in  the  town  of  Warwick,  Orange 
County,  in  that  State;  where,  we  are 
told,  he  "  combined  a  large  mercantile 
business  with  an  extensive  range  of 
professional  practice,  both  of  which  he 
carried  on  successfully  for  the  space  of 
twenty  years,  when  he  retired  from  ac- 
tive business  and  devoted  himself  to 
the  cultivation  of  the  estate,  of  which, 
by  constant  industry  and  economy,  he 
became  the  owner."  Dr.  Seward,  an 
active  member  of  the  Republican  party 
of  his  day,  held  several  offices  of  pub- 
lic trust,  as  a  member  of  the  legislature, 
and  was,  for  many  years,  first  judge  of  his 
county.  His  public  spirit  was  shown 
in  his  endowment  of  a  high  school  or 
seminary  at  Florida  which  was  named 

280 


after  him,  the  Seward  Institute.  He 
died  at  an  advanced  age  in  1849,  hav- 
ing survived  his  wife  a  few  years. 

Of  this  parentage  William  Henry 
Seward  was  born,  at  the  family  dwel- 
ling, in  Florida,  May  16th,  '1801.  A 
precocious  student,  and  lover  of  learn- 
ing in  his  childhood,  he  attended  such 
schools  as  the  neighborhood  afforded 
until  the  age  of  nine,  when  he  was  sent 
to  Farmer's  Hall  Academy  at  Goshen, 
where  he  pursued  his  studies,  and  at 
an  academy  afterwards  established  in 
Florida,  until  his  fifteenth  year,  when 
his  proficiency  was  such  that  on  pre- 
senting himself  for  admission  to  Union 
College,  Schenectady,  he  was  found 
qualified  for  admission  to  the  Junior 
Class,  though  on  account  of  his  youth 
he  entered  the  Sophomore.  His  college 
career  was  marked  by  great  industry 
and  ability.  His  favorite  studies,  we 
are  told  by  his  biographer,  were  rhe- 
toric, moral  philosophy,  and  the  ancient 
classics.  It  was  his  custom  to  rise  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  prepare 
all  the  lessons  of  the  day,  while  at 
night  he  occupied  his  leisure  with  gene- 
ral reading  and  literary  compositions  for 
declamation  or  debate  in  society  meet- 
ings for  which  he  had  early  displayed 
a  great  aptitude.  While  in  the  Senior 
Class  in  his  eighteenth  year,  he  was 


WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWARD. 


almost  a  year  from  the  college,  six 
months  of  which  were  passed  as  a 
teacher  in  the  State  of  Georgia.  The 
opinions  on  the  suhject  of  slavery 
which  have,  in  so  marked  a  manner, 
governed  his  political  career  are  said  to 
have  had  their  origin  or  been  greatly 
strengthened  by  his  experience  at  this 
time.  Keturning  to  college,  he  gradu- 
ated with  distino-nished  eclat.  The 
subject  of  his  commencement  oration, 
"  The  Integrity  of  the  American  Union," 
has  proved,  though  in  an  unexpected 
manner,  sio;nificant  of  his  career. 

Mr.  Seward  now  applied  himself  to 
the  study  of  the  law,  in  which  he  had 
the  guidance  of  three  eminent  counsel- 
lors of  the  State,  John  Anthon,  John 
Duer,  and  Ogden  Hoffman.  He  was 
admitted  to  the  bar  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  at  Utica,  in  1822,  and  early  in 
the  following  year  took  up  his  residence 
in  Auburn,  where  he  was  associated 
in  business  with  an  eminent  member 
of  the  profession,  Elijah  Miller,  then 
fii'st  judge  of  Cayuga  County,  whose 
daughter  he  married  in  1824.  Devot- 
ing himself  assiduously  to  his  profes- 
sion, the  debating  talent-  of  Mr.  Seward, 
and  his  ability  as  a  public  speaker  dis- 
played in  numerous  popular  addresses, 
naturally  drew  him  into  political  life. 
Opposed  to  the  Albany  Regency,  the 
Democratic  organization  which  was 
then  all-powerful  in  the  State,  he  en- 
tered upon  a  career  of  opposition  which 
in  due  time  led  to  his  leadership  of  the 
new  Whig  party.  In  1830,  he  was 
elected  a  member  of  the  State  Senate, 
being,  it  is  said,  the  youngest  member 
that  up  to  that  time  had  entered  that 
body.    He  now  became  prominently 


known  by  his  support  of  the  policy  of 
internal  improvements,  his  advocacy  of 
the  abolition  of  imprisonment  for  debt, 
and  other  liberal  measures.  In  1833, 
he  visited  England  and  France,  and 
other  portions  of  the  continent  of 
Europe,  sending  home  a  series  of  des- 
criptive letters  which  were  afterward 
published  in  the  "  Albany  Evening 
Journal."  In  1834,  he  was  a  candidate 
for  Grovernor  of  the  State,  but  lost  the 
election.  Nominated  a  second  time  in 
1838,  the  Whig  party,  for  the  first 
time  being  now  in  the  ascendant,  he 
was  chosen  by  a  majority  exceeding 
ten  thousand.  Again  elected  in  1840, 
at  the  expiration  of  his  second  term,  he 
declined  a  renomination  and  retired 
from  the  office.  The  four  years  which 
he  thus  passed  in  this  important  posi- 
tion were  marked  by  unwearied  mental 
activity  and  diligence,  in  discharge  of 
the  duties  of  the  office.  Besides  his 
furtherance  of  the  sytem  of  internal 
improvements  now  so  rapidly  develop- 
iner  the  fortunes  of  the  State,  he  was 
prominently  interested  in  a  new  and 
more  popular  organization  of  the  pub- 
lic Schools,  which  in  its  operation  upon 
the  existing  system  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  being  thought  to  favor  certain 
claims  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  gave 
rise  to  no  little  opposition  on  the  part 
of  the  so-called  Protestant  interest.  In 
the  complicated  questions  of  interna- 
tional law  growing  out  of  the  McLeod 
case  he  sustained  the  rights  of  the 
country  and  the  State.  On  his  retire- 
ment from  the  office  of  Governor,  Mr. 
Seward  resumed  the  practice  of  the 
law  at  Auburn,  from  which  he  was 
called  in  1849,  by  his  election  to  the 


282 


WILLIAM  HENRY  SEWARD. 


United  States  Senate.  In  this  new- 
sphere  of  duty  lie  acted  on  a  larger 
theatre  the  character  for  usefulness 
which  he  had  established  as  State 
Governor,  advocating  all  means  of  in- 
creasing the  resources  of  the  country, 
opening  the  public  lands  to  settlers, 
promoting  the  Pacific  Railroad,  and 
other  national  internal  improvements ; 
while  he  kept  steady  in  view  the  great 
principles  of  freedom  with  which  his 
public  life  was  identified. 

It  was  the  period  of  renewed  agita- 
tion of  the  relations  of  the  Grovernment 
to  slavery,  growing  out  of  the  acquisi- 
tion of  territory  in  the  recent  war  with 
Mexico.  To  guard  the  vast  territory 
of  the  West,  now  stretching  to  the 
Pacific,  from  the  encroachments  of  the 
slave  power,  was  the  work  of  the  poli- 
tical leaders  of  the  country — prominent 
among  whom  was  Mr.  Seward — pledged 
to  the  support  of  a  national  policy  of 
freedom.  The  debates  on  the  admission 
of  California  gave  the  new  Senator  an 
opportunity  to  display  his  peculiar 
powers.  In  his  able  philosophical 
speech  on  that  occasion,  delivered 
March  11th,  1850,  he  employed  a 
phrase.  The  Higher  Law^  which  was 
taken  hold  of  by  his  opponents,  who 
endeavored  to  fasten  it  as  a  term  of 
reproach  upon  his  party,  as  if  it  had 
been  uttered  in  opposition  to  the  legal 
claims  of  the  Constitution.  It  was,  in 
fact,  brought  forward  by  him  in  sup- 
port of  his  interpretation  of  that  in- 
strument. Speaking  of  the  power  of 
Congress  over  the  territories,  "The 
Constitution,"  said  he,  "regulates  our 
stewardship ;  the  Constitution  devotes 
the  domain  to  union,  to  justice,  to  de- 


fence, to  welfare,  and  to  liberty.  But 
there  is  a  Higher  Law  than  the  Consti- 
tution, which  regulates  our  authority 
over  the  domain,  and  devotes  it  to  the 
sanj,e  noble  purposes.  The  territory  is 
a  part,  no  inconsiderable  part,  of  the 
common  heritage  of  mankind,  bestowed 
upon  them  by  the  Creator  of  the  uni- 
verse. We  are  his  stewards,  and  must 
so  discharge  our  trust  as  to  secure  in 
the  highest  attainable  degree  their  hap- 
piness." The  statesmen  who  create 
the  popular  watchwords  a$e  invariably 
thinkers;  of  philosophic  perceptions, 
and  powers ;  and  like  all  philosophers 
of  fertile  minds,  accustomed  to  affairs 
where  energy  is  demanded,  their  genius 
has  a  tendency  to  express  itself  in  epi- 
grammatic form.  Calhoun  was  a  speak- 
er of  this  stamp,  John  Randolph  an- 
other, and  Mr.  Seward,  whether  in  speak- 
ing or  wrriting  is  constantly  making 
points  which  are  remembered.  Seldom 
have  two  words  had  a  profounder  signi- 
fication or  been  more  portentous  as  a 
warning  of  the  future  than  the  simple 
phrase  "irrepressible  conflict"  which 
he  introduced  in  a  speech  at  Rochester, 
New  York,  during  the  Congressional 
elections  of  1858.  He  had  now,  through 
the  administrations  of  Presidents  Fill- 
more, Pierce,  and  the  first  half  of  Mr. 
Buchanan's  term  of  office,  in  opposition 
to  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  to  the  repeal 
of  the  Missouri  Compromise,  in  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Kansas  and  Nebraska  Bill, 
to  the  attempt  to  force  the  Lecompton 
Constitution  upon  Kansas,  in  the  Senate 
and  out  of  it,  opposed  every  measure 
favoring  the  extension  of  the  slave 
power  over  the  virgin  free  soil  of  the 
nation,  and   he  on  this  occasion  re- 


WILLIAM   HENRY  SEWARD. 


2S3 


minded  tlie  countiy  anew  of  tlie  war 
of  principles  upon  which  it  had,  of  ne- 
cessity entered.  "  Hitherto,"  said  he, 
in  Avords  A\']iose  prophetic  force  he  him- 
self probably  did  not  then  fully  antici- 
pate, "  the  two  systems  (slave  and  free 
labor)  have  existed  in  different  States, 
but  side  by  side,  within  the  American 
Union.  This  has  happened  because 
the  Union  is  a  confederation  of  States. 
But  in  another  aspect  the  United  States 
constitute  only  one  nation.  Increase 
of  population,  which  is  filling  the  States 
out  to  their  very  borders,  together  with 
a  new  and  extended  net-work  of  rail- 
roads and  other  avenues,  and  an  inter- 
nal commerce  which  daily  becomes 
more  intimate,  are  rapidly  bringing  the 
States  into  a  higher  and  more  perfect 
social  unity,  or  consolidation.  Thus 
these  antagonistic  systems  are  con- 
tinually coming  into  closer  contact ;  and 
collision  results. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  this  collision 
means  ?    They  who  think  that  it  is  ac- 
cidental, unnecessary,  the  work  of  in- 
terested  or  fanatical    agitators,  and 
therefore  ephemeral,  mistake  the  case 
altogethei'.    It  is  an  irrepressible  con- 
flict between  opposing  and  enduring 
forces,  and  it  means  that  the  United 
States  must  and  will,  sooner  or  later, 
become  either  entirely  a  slave-holding 
nation,  or  entirely  a  free-labor  nation." 
That  nothing  revolutionary,  of  the  char- 
acter  of    the   civil   war  afterwards 
brought  about,  was  at  this  time  favored 
or  even  imagined  by  the  speaker,  we 
may  infer  from  the  qualification  which 
he  added  expressly  to  guard  against 
misapprehension.    "If,"  said  he,  "these 
States  are  to  again  become  universally  ■ 


■  slave-holding,  I  do  not  pretend  to  say 
with  what  violations  of  the  Constitu- 
tion that  end  shall  be  accomplished. 
On  the  other  hand,  while  I  do  con- 
fidently believe  and  hope  that  my 
country  will  yet  become  a  land  of  uni- 
versal freedom,  I  do  not  expect  that  it 
will  be  made  so  otherwise  than  through 
the  action  of  the  several  States  cooperat- 
ing with  the  federal  government,  and 
all  acting  in  strict  conformity  with 
their  respective  Constitutions." 

Previous  to  the  close  of  his  second 
senatorial  term,  Mr.  Seward,  in  1859, 
paid  a  second  visit  to  Europe,  extending 
his  tour  to  Egypt  and  the  Holy  Land. 
He  was  now  looked  upon  as  a  promi- 
nent candidate  of  the  new  Kepublican 
party  for  the  Presidency,  as  indeed,  he 
had  been  regarded  by  many  at  the  pre- 
vious election.    He  had  then  given  his 
support  to  Fremont,  as  he  had  to  Scott 
in  1852.    In  1860,  he  was  supported 
at  the  nominating  Convention  by  the 
delegates  of  New  York,  Massachusetts, 
and  six  other  States,  receiving  on  the 
first  ballot  more  votes  than  Mr.  Lincoln. 
Promptly  accepting  the  choice  of  the 
latter,  he  entered  heartily  into  the  cam- 
paign, making  numerous  speeches,  and 
when  the  election  was  gained,  was 
called  to  the  foremost  place  in  the  new 
cabinet  as  Secretary  of  State.  His 
unwearied  diplomatic  activity  in  his 
correspondence  with  foreign  nations, 
bringing  into  effective  use  all  the  re- 
sources of  his   cultivated   mind,  his 
ready,  fluent  style,  his  mental  ingenuity, 
the  spring  and  elasticity  with  which 
he  has  maintained  the  integrity  of  his 
country,  are  matters  of  the  history  of 
to-day. 


ELISHA   KENT  KANE. 


The  eminent   Arctic  voyager  was 
born  in  Philadelphia,  February  3, 1820. 
He  w^as  of  mixed  descent,  uniting  in 
his  composition  many  of  the  finer  ele- 
ments of  American  national  life.  His 
great-grandfather,  John  Kane,  the  first 
of   the   family  who   settled  in  the 
coimtry,   was   a   native   of  Ireland, 
adding  another  to  the  many  instances 
recorded  in  these  volumes,  where  dis- 
tinguished energy  and  worth  are  traced 
to  that  island.    He  came  to  America 
about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, and  married  the  daughter  of  the 
Eeverend  Elisha  Kent,  a  Puritan  cler- 
gyman  of   Massachusetts.    We  find 
the  Kanes,  subsequently,  intermarrying 
with   the  Van  Rensselaers   of  New 
York,  the  grandmother  of  the  traveller 
being  of  the  latter  family.    On  the 
mother's  side,  he  traced  his  descent 
from  a  lady  celebrated   during  the 
Eevolutionary  war  for  her  many  vir- 
tues.   This  was  his  great-grandmother, 
Martha  Gray,  the  wife  of  George  Gray. 
She  was  of  the  Moravian  faith — her 
husband  of  Quaker  parentage;  but 
their  mild  origin  did  not  hinder  their 
activity  in  the  patriotic  cause.  During 
the  occupation  of  Philadelphia  by  the 
British,  Mrs.  Gray,  who  was  admirably 
qualified  for  such  beneficent  duties, 
ministered  with  unwearied  assiduity  to 

284 


the  wants  of  the  American  prisoners, 
assisted  by  her  daughter,  the  wife  of 
Thomas  Leiper,  an  ardent  and  efficient 
patriot  soldier,  who  supported  the  cause 
by  his  purse  and  his  services  in  the 
field.  The  late  Judge  John  K.  Kane, 
the  father  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch, 
married  Jane  Leiper,  the  daughter  of 
the  couple  just  described. 

The  early  years  of  their  son  Elisha — 
he  was  the  first  of  a  family  of  seven 
children — exhibited  a  childhood  of  un- 
usual spirit  and  activity.   The  boy  was 
active,   resolute,   afraid    of  nothing. 
Courage  seemed  to  be  born  with  him. 
His  biographer.  Dr.  William  Elder, 
dwells  with  fondness  upon  this  period 
of  his  life,  relating  various  anecdotes 
of  his  prompt  juvenile  hardihood.  On 
one  occasion,  when  he  was  not  more 
than  nine,  he  interposed  to  shield  his 
younger  brother  from   a  flogging  at 
school.    "  Don't  whip  him,"  said  he  to 
the  schoolmaster,  "he's  such  a  little 
fellow — whip  me."    At  another  time, 
he  is  calling  four  or  five  bigger  boys  to 
account,  by  climbing  the  roof  of  an  out- 
building by  the  rain-spout,  and  securing 
satisfaction  from  them,  in  their  perilous 
position,  for  their  annoyance  of  some 
girls  below.   His  nerve  and  spirit  gave 
him  the  advantage.    Another  adven- 
ture, a  singular  freak  for  any  boy,  was 


ELTSTTA    KENT  KANE 


2S5 


liis  climbing  a  liigli  gahle-cliimney  by 
iiiu'lit,  an  ino-enious  and  darinsr  feat — 
\vitli  no  other  object  tlian  the  ])leasure 
of  doing  it.    Stories  like  these  show  the 
man  in  the  boy.    Meanwhile,  he  exhibit- 
ed great  reluctance  to  books  and  sys- 
tematic stndy,  and  the  authority  of  pre- 
ceptors, while  he  amused  himself  with 
chemistry,  "Eobinson  Crusoe"  and  the 
"  Pilgrim's  Progress."   Keviewing  these 
early  days,  his   biographer  remarks: 
"  the  boy  had  not  a  vice  or  a  fault  that 
could   spoil   the   man;   but  he  had 
scarcely  an  inclination  that  promised 
success  in  the  life  designed  for  him. 
There  was  riding  at  break-neck  speed  to 
be  done ;  trees  and  rocks  to  climb ;  peb- 
bles to  pick ;  dogs  to  train ;  chemistry, 
geology  an.d  geography  to  explore,  with 
Ms   eyes  and  fingers   on   the  facts; 
sketching,  whittling  and  cobbling  to 
do,  Avith  other  heroics  of  muscle  and 
mnd — all  mixed  in  a  medley  of  matter 
and  system,  for  which  there  was  no. 
promising  precedent,  and  no  prophecy 
of  good." 

This  is  not  so  very  meagre  a  list  of 
acquisitions  after  all,  for  a  youth  under 
sixteen,  who  was  moreover  crammed 
with  some  school  learning,  for  we  find 
his  father  taking  him  at  that  age  to 
Yale  College  for  examination.  The 
irregularity  of  his  preparation — his 
knowledge  of  the  natural  sciences  was 
out  of  proportion  to  his  other  acquire- 
ments— placed  him  at  a  disadvantage, 
and  the  University  of  Virginia,  where 
a  choice  of  studies  is  allowed,  was 
chosen  in  preference  to  the  New  Eng- 
land institution.  It  is  sad,  in  the  midst 
of  these  recitals,  thus  early  to  meet 
with  the  fii'st  whisper  of  that  affection 
II.— 36 


of  the  heart,  which  afllicted  Kane 
through  life  and  was  ultimately  the 
cause  of  his  death.  The  struo-a:le  is 
soon  to  come,  probably  the  severest 
pressure  that  can  be  put  on  a  youth  of 
susceptibility  and  genius,  keenly  alive 
to  every  impression.  He  made  rapid 
progress  at  the  Virginia  University  in 
his  favorite  study  of  the  natural  sci- 
ences and  in  mathematics,  was  explor- 
ing in  field  and  mountain,  and  pushing 
bravely  on  to  his  intended  life  employ- 
ment as  a  civil  engineer,  when  he  was 
called  away,  taken  home,  with  a  severe 
attack  of  illness — an  inflammation  of  the 
lining  membrane  of  the  heart.  His  life 
was  for  awhile  despaired  of.  When  he 
partially  recovered,  it  Vv^as  to  learn  the 
danger  of  his  fits  of  agony,  and  receive 
the  fatal  sentence  from  the  lips  of  his 
physician,  "You  may  fall,  Elisha,  as 
suddenly  as  from  a  musket  shot." 

Here  was  something  to  be  met 
which  would  seem  to  require  all  the 
energy  of  a  strong  nature.  It  was 
met  with  the  spirit  of  a  hero.  The 
lesson  is  the  grandest  presented  by  the 
career  of  this  noble  spirited  man — more 
valuable  to  human  life  than  any  single 
result  of  Arctic  exploration.  If  he 
that  ruleth  his  spirit  is  stronger  than 
he  who  taketh  a  city,  surely  the  man 
who  turns  the  very  weakness  and  de- 
spair of  nature  to  strength  and  bravery, 
who  rises  where  most  fall,  who  dig'ests 
the  heaviest  grief  humanity  is  capable 
of,  and  finds  in  it  the  nutriment  of  true 
greatness — success  even  physical  as  well 
as  mental — surely  this  man  must  be 
pronounced  a  hero.  There  was  a  Spar- 
tan courage  in  the  words  of  his  father, 
"Elisha,  if  you  must  die,  die  in  the 


286 


ELISHA  KENT  KANE. 


harness."  He  accepted  tlie  advice,  and 
in  the  striking  language  of  his  biogra- 
pher, "rose  out  of  the  week  resolutely, 
and  retrieved  his  life  in  a  strength 
made  his  own  by  holding  it  in  fee  of 
chivalric  service."  There  was  no  at- 
tempt to  escape  the  bitter  knowledge. 
He  met  his  enemy  face  to  face.  Obliged 
to  relinquish  the  calling  of  an  engineer, 
lie  chose  the  profession  of  medicine 
where  he  would  be  always  in  the  com- 
pany of  his  grim  antagonist,  and  learn, 
if  possible,  to  master  him.  At  nine- 
teen he  became  a  diligent  student  in 
the  office  of  Dr.  William  Harris,  of 
Philadelphia,  and  before  he  was  twenty- 
one  was  discharging  the  duty  of  resi- 
dent physician  in  the  Pennsylvania 
Hospital  at  Blockley.  Though  inter- 
rupted by  fits  of  illness  he  discharged 
these  double  duties  of  study  and  prac- 
tice and  received  his  medical  diploma 
in  1842,  with  the  especial  thanks  of  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania  from  which 
he  graduated,  "  for  his  able  and  instruct- 
ive thesis,"  on  Kyestine. 

Fifteen  years  of  maimed  and  wound- 
ed life  were  before  him.  We  shall  see 
how  they  were  spent.  He  started  on 
the  career  destined  to  terminate  in  so 
brilliant  a  crowning  effort,  as  a  surgeon 
in  the  navy,  after  the  usual  examina- 
tion, when  his  physical  infirmities  were 
overlooked  for  the  sake  of  his  other 
qualifications.  There  being  no  vacancy 
at  that  moment  in  the  service,  calling 
for  the  regular  discharge  of  his  duty, 
he  was  appointed  by  the  influence  of 
his  family  and  friends,  physician  to  the 
first  American  Embassy  to  China,  of 
which  Mr.  Caleb  Cushing  was  placed 
at  the  head.    He  accordingly  sailed  in 


the  frigate  Brandywine,  which  was  as- 
signed to  the  expedition,  in  May,  1843. 

Pie  had  now  in  a  measure,  the  oppor- 
tunity for  which  he  ever  afterwards 
panted,  that  of  constant  activity.  He 
was  an  eager  student  on  ship  board  and 
when  in  port  he  was  bent  upon  geo- 
graphical observation.  At  Pio,  where 
his  vessel  made  a  landing,  he  was  ex- 
amining the  geology  of  the  Eastern 
Andes ;  at  Bombay,  where  the  deten- 
tion of  Mr.  Cushing  in  Europe  kept 
them  some  time  waiting,  he  explored 
the  antiquities  of  the  coast,  and  passing 
to  Ceylon,  engaged  in  the  gigantic 
wild  sports  and  studied  the  grand  and 
beautiful  vegetation  of  the  island.  At 
Macao,  he  gained  leave  of  absence  from 
the  embassy,  while  it  prosecuted  its  slow 
work  of  diplomacy,  and  crossed  over 
and  penetrated  the  island  of  Luzon, 
the  chief  of  the  Philippines.  This  last 
tour  in  the  spring  of  1844,  was  made 
memorable  by  his  hazardous  explora- 
tion of  the  volcano  of  Tael,  into  which 
he  descended,  let  down  by  a  rope  of 
bamboo  fastened  round  his  body,  more 
than  two  hundred  feet,  from  a  project- 
ing platform  in  the  mouth  of  this  fear- 
ful crater.  Arrived  at  the  bottom,  he 
traversed  the  scalding  ashes  and  pro- 
cured specimens  of  the  water  of  the 
smoking  lake.  The  return  presented 
greater  difficulties  than  the  descent. 
Half  exhausted,  his  charred  boots  fall- 
ing from  his  feet,  he  regained  the  rope, 
succeeded  in  attaching  it  to  his  person, 
and  was  drawn  up  from  the  reeking 
vapor  almost  insensible.  He  was  the 
first  European  who  ever  accomplished 
this  piece  of  hardihood ;  his  companion, 
who  started  with  him,  shrinking  from 


287 


tlie  effort.  The  uatives  were  not  likely 
to  make  the  attempt,  apart  from  its 
perils  and  disagreeable  nature,  since 
they,  not  unnaturally,  held  Jbhe  wild 
sulphurous  crater  to  be  the  home  of 
some  peculiar  deity,  whose  sanctit}^  the 
American  traveller  had  impiously  vio- 
lated. A  party  of  them  were  quite 
disposed  to  avenge  on  his  person  the 
honor  of  the  insulted  divinity,  by  an 
assault  which  was  prevented  only  by  a 
timely  show  of  revolvers. 

Having  satisfied  the  sentiment  in 
a  thorough  examination  of  Luzon, 
Dr.  Kane  rejoined  his  companions  of 
the  embassy  in  time  to  participate  in 
the  closing  proceedings  and  festivals 
of  the  treaty  at  Macao.  The  mission 
now  being  at  an  end  in  China,  he 
resigned  his  position  as  physician  to 
the  legation,  and  took  up  his  residence 
for  awhile  at  Whampoa,  practising  his 
profession  with  profit,  till  his  career 
was  interrupted  by  a  severe  attack  of 
fever.  This  determined  him  to  set  his 
face  homeward.  Arranging  with  a 
companion  to  make  the  overland  joui'- 
ney,  and,  at  the  same  time,  improve  the 
opportunity  of  observation  by  the 
way,  he  visited  Singapore,  Ceylon  and 
Hindostan,  traversing  the  interior  and 
ascending  the  Himilayas.  While  jour- 
neying through  the  country,  he  made 
the  acquaintance  of  the  wealthy  noble, 
Dwakanath  Tagore,  a  native  prince 
about  to  visit  the  court  of  Victoria,  in 
whose  suite  he  traversed  Persia  and 
Syria  to  Egypt.  It  is  to  be  regretted 
that  we  have  no  accounts  of  these  and 
other  adventures  from  the  pen  of 
Dr.  Kane.  An  occasional  brief,  scanty 
letter  is  all  that  remains — the  pointed 


phraseology  of  which  makes  us  the 
more  regret  the  absence  of  other  re- 
cords. His  papers  and  journals,  in 
which  much  that  was  novel  and  inte- 
resting was  doubtless  written  down, 
comprehending  all  his  previous  tours 
in  the  east,  perished  by  accident  or  a 
fraud  of  the  natives,  in  his  voyage  on 
the  Mle. 

He  seems  to  have  entered  upon  the 
examination  of  Egypt  with  the  full 
exercise  of  all  his  powers  of  study  and 
observation.    Looking  with  contempt 
upon  the  popular  narratives  of  travel 
in  that  region,  he  plunged  into  the 
original  works  of  Cailliaud  and  Wil- 
kinson, "  with  the  country  itself  for  my 
atlas,"  as  he  writes  from  the  spot  in 
a  letter  which   has   been  preserved. 
"  Thanks,"  he  says,  "  to  Dwakanath  Ta- 
gore and  the  very  meagre  influence  of 
my  China  title,  I  have  been  elected  a 
member  of  the  Egyptian  Society — a 
somewhat  dubious  honor  which  has 
converted  my  boat  into  a  library,  and 
condemned  me  to  a  fee  of  two  pounds 
six.    Nothing,"  he  adds,  "  can  be  more 
exciting  than  the  intelligent  study  of 
Egyptian  antiquities."    He  fell  in  with 
Lepsius,  then  in  the  midst  of  the  inves- 
tigations of  his  Prussian  commission, 
and  diligently  investigated  his  learn- 
ed labors.    We  find  him  at  Thebes 
sketching  and  lodged  "  in  the  palace- 
temple  of  Sesostris,"  and  tempting  the 
hardships  of  Upper  Egypt  and  the 
Desert.    A  climbing  adventure,  quite 
in  accordance  with  the  old  tastes  of  his 
childhood,  in  attempting  to  ascend  the 
enormous  statue  of  Memnon  by  the 
legs,  was  attended  with  considerable 
peril.    His  Egyptian  tour,  of  which  no 


J 


288 


ELISIIA  KENT  KANE. 


account  beyond  a  single  letter  remains, 
was  closed  in  the  early  part  of  tlie 
summer  of  1845,  witli  "  liis  uniform 
experience  in  every  grand  tour  of  his 
life — an  attack  of  the  disease  distinc- 
tive of  tlie  climate.  The  anemometers, 
hygrometers,  barometers  and  thermom- 
eters of  the  scientific  traveller,"  adds 
his  biographer,  "  being  no  better  indi- 
cators and  registers  of  climatology, 
than  the  varied  sensitiveness  of  the 
constitution  he  carried  w^ith  him  in  all 
his  journeyings."  The  rice-fever  of 
China  was  thus  succeeded  by  the 
plague  of  Egypt ;  but  some  latent 
energy  in  his  composition  carried  the 
traveller  through,  and  we  find  him  in 
June  making  the  tour  of  Greece  on 
foot  from  Athens.  He  traversed  the 
ancient  Bceotia  and  Phocis,  visiting 
patriotic  Thermopylae,  the  poetic  haunts 
of  Helicon  and  Parnassus,  and  the  orac- 
ular fount  of  Delphi ;  thence  crossing 
the  Corinthia  Gulf,  the  modern  Lepanto, 
he  explored  every  portion  of  the  Morea. 
All  this  was  accomplished  in  about  a 
month,  when  he  left  the  western  coast 
of  Trieste;  thence,  in  unresting  haste, 
through  Germany,  Switzerland — study- 
ing glacier  formations — Italy,  France 
and  England,  home.  This  rambling 
about  the  world  suited  his  disposition, 
perhaps  was  essential  to  his  health,  a 
necessity  of  his  impaired  constitution. 
He  was  anxious  to  find  means  to  con- 
tinue it,  and  made  proposals  while  he 
was  in  Europe  to  the  Spanish  autho- 
rities, to  practice  his  profession  at 
Manilla ;  but  somehow  the  scheme  fell 
through. 

Arrived  at  Philadelphia,  he  turned 
his  ambition,  we  are  told,  "  upon  pro- 


fessional eminence,  with  a  view  to  the 
practice  of  medicine  and  teaching,  as  a 
lecturer  in  Philadelphia.     He  took  a 
house  in  Walnut  street,  and  furnished 
an  office  in  it  with  taste  and  elaborate 
care.    With  his  medical  brethren  he 
kept  a  full  round  of  engagements — 
chemical,  anatomical,  quiz  and  soiree."^ 
It  was  not  in  his  nature  long  to  be 
content  with  this  comparatively  quiet 
mode  of  life.    War  with  Mexico  was 
imminent,  and  he  was  yet  attached  to 
the  navy,  though  he  had  not  been 
called  into  the  service  of  that  depart- 
ment.    At  length,  in  the  spring  of 
1846,  he  received  orders — to  the  coast 
of  Africa,  and  with  a  characteristic 
resolution  and  sense  of  duty,  mad'^  no 
effort  to  escape  the  call.    Once  there, 
of  course,  he  interested  himself  in  the 
novel  objects  of  the  region,  and  signal- 
ized his  cruise  by  a  visit,  accompanying 
a  caravan,  to  the  monster  King  of  Da- 
homey, witnessing  his  unparalleled  vice 
and  brutality.     While  his  vessel  was 
sailing  along  the  coast  to  the  south- 
ward, the  fever  broke  out ;  Dr.  Kane 
attended  to  the  patients,  and  for  a 
while  escaped,  when  he  was  stricken 
down,  and  after  a  struggle  with  the 
disease  of  three  weeks,  was  sent  home 
to  America,  in  utter  debility,  as  his 
only  chance  of  escape  with  life,  by  a 
transport  vessel  from  Liberia.    He  ar- 
rived at  Philadelphia  in  the  beginning 
of  April,  184Y.    It  is  well  to  be  par- 
ticular with  dates.    His  life  was  short, 
and  it  is  important  to  observe  how 
closely  his  few  years  were  crowded  with 
arduous  action. 

Broken  in  health,  almost  too  ill  to 

'  Elder's  Biography,  p.  100. 


ELISHA  KENT  KANE. 


ply  liis  n])plieatiou  with  effect,  liis  first 
care,  now  that  he  found  the  naval  ser- 
vice of  the  Mexican  war  mostly  over, 
was  to  solicit  government  for  emplo}^- 
meut  in  the  army" — so  eager  was  his 
thirst  for  honorable  activity.  Escap- 
ing- aonxin  from  a  new  attack  of  disease, 
he  renewed  his  application  at  Washing- 
ton, and  secured  a  specitd  commission 
to  the  commander-in-chief  at  the  head- 
quartei's  of  the  army  in  Mexico,  with 
instructions  to  report  to  the  home  bu- 
reau his  observations  on  the  state  of 
the  field  and  hospital  organization. 
Dr.  Kane  started  on  this  expedition 
from  New  Orleans,  by  the  way  of  the 
Gulf,  on  the  23d  of  November,  184Y. 
His  voyage  to  Vera  Cruz  in  the  steamer 
was  a  perilous  one,  encountering  the 
force  of  a  powerful  nortlier,  which  well- 
nigh  m'ecked  the  vessel.  The  dragoon 
horses  for  the  army  were  driven  over- 
board— they  were  compelled  to  sacri- 
fice them  for  safety — and  Kane  was  on 
the  point  of  parting  with  his  own  spi- 
rited steed  when  some  friendly  officers 
interposed.  On  landing,  he  proceeded 
toward  the  capital  by  the  usual  route, 
through  Perote  and  upward,  conduct- 
ed, the  latter  part  of  the  way,  by 
a  renegade  spy-company  of  Mexi- 
cans, commanded  by  a  notorious  bri- 
gand named  Domingues.  He  was  ap- 
proaching Puebla,  on  the  sixth  of 
January,  with  this  escort,  when  the 
party  encountered  a  rival  band  of 
Mexicans  with  several  distinguished 
officers,  including  General  Torrejon, 
making  their  way  to  Orizaba.  A  con- 
flict immediately  ensued  upon  the  two 
companies  coming  upon  one  another  on 
the  crest  of  a  hill  on  the  road,  when  I 


Domingues  and  his  men  were  victori- 
ous. Dr.  Kane  fouglit  resolutely  in 
this  encounter,  and  Torrejon,  with  his 
brother  office  I's  and  thirty -eight  rank 
and  file,  were  taken  prisoners.  In  a 
subsequent  successful  endeavor  to  re- 
strain the  cruelty  of  Domingues,  who 
was  about  to  sabre  the  captives.  Dr. 
Kane,  who  had  especially  in  charge  the 
two  generals,  Gaona  and  Torrejon,  who 
had  surrendered  to  him,  was  himself 
severely  wounded  in  the  side  by  a 
blow  from  the  butt  of  a  lance,  and  his 
noble  steed,  saved  by  the  officers  on  the 
voyage,  was  fatally  pierced  by  a  thrust 
aimed  at  his  rider.  On  reaching  Pue- 
bla, Dr.  Kane,  was  attacked  with  con- 
gestive typhus  fever,  the  result  of  his 
wound  and  exposure,  when  he  was  ten- 
derly nursed  by  the  wife  and  daugh- 
ters of  Gaona,  whose  life  he  had  saved. 
A  circumstance  which  added  to  the 
delicacy  of  this  kindness  was  the  fact, 
that  though  Kane  had  gallantly  inter- 
posed after  the  conflict  in  saving  the 
life  of  the  host,  it  was  by  his  hand  that 
the  host's  son.  Colonel  Gaona,  received 
a  severe  wound  during  the  engage- 
ment. When  he  was  carried  to  Mex- 
ico, at  the  end  of  February,  still  in  a 
disabled  condition,  Dr.  Kane  formally 
reported  to  the  commander-in-chief  the 
inhuman  conduct  of  Domingues. 

In  consequence  of  his  wound.  Dr. 
Kane  was  unable  to  join  the  army  in 
his  official  capacity;  he  was  pronounced 
"  unfit  for  duty,"  and  was  compelled, 
reluctantly,  to  turn  his  face  homeward. 
He  arrived,  as  usual,  worn  out  and 
disabled;  and,  as  usual,  rallied  durino- 
the  summer,  under  careful  nursing. 
Spite  of  wounds  and  diseases,  the  prin- 


290 


BLISHA  KENT  KANE. 


ciple  of  life  was  strong  within  liim. 
The  next  winter,  in  February,  he  is 
again  on  the  sea,  attached  to  a  store- 
ship  bound  for  the  Mediterranean.  A 
sad  letter  on  the  voyage  records  in 
words  full  of  agony  a  threatened  attack 
of  lock-jaw,  with  "an  utter,  unquali- 
fied conviction  of  inevitable  death." 
He  returned  in  his  ship  by  the  way  of 
Rio,  where  he  gained  strength,  to  Nor- 
folk, in  September.  The  beginning  of 
1850  found  him  employed  on  the  coast 
survey  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  luxuri- 
ating in  the  tenderness  of  the  southern 
climate  to  his  sensitive  frame,  and 
meanwhile,  such  was  the  nature  of  the 
man,  eagerly  waiting  the  result  of  his 
application  to  the  department  as  a 
volunteer  to  join  the  projected  govern- 
ment Arctic  Expedition  in  search  of 
Sir  John  Franklin.  As  the  most  ad- 
venturous piece  of  daring  in  the  ser- 
vice, the  duty,  trebly  hazardous  to  his 
enfeebled  constitution,  presented  to  him 
a  peculiar  fascination.  But  he  was  not 
one  of  the  class  of  invalids  to  rust  out. 
If  life  was  to  be  short,  so  much  the 
more  necessity  for  concentrating  its 
moments  on  the  most  important  acts. 
There  is  something  sublime-,  under  the 
circumstances,  in  the  resolve  of  the 
man. 

Henceforth  Kane  is  his  own  histo- 
rian in  those  marvellous  narratives  of 
Arctic  adventure  which  confer  upon 
him  almost  as  distinguished  fame  as  a 
writer  as  discoverer.  Style  with  him 
was  emphatically  the  man.  Every 
page  is  instinct  with  his  emphatic  vi- 
tality. "  On  the  twelfth  of  May,"  he 
commences  the  narrative  of  his  first 
voyage,  with  that  picturesque  art  which 


was  a  part  of  his  mind,  "  while  bathing 
in  the  tepid  waters  of  the  Gulf  of  Mex- 
ico, I  received  one  of  those  courteous 
little  epistles  from  Washington  which 
the  electric  telegraph  has  made  so  fami- 
liar to  naval  officers.  It  detached  me 
from  the  coast  survey,  and  ordered  me 
to  '  proceed  forthwith  to  New  York,  for 
duty  upon  the  Arctic  Expedition.' 
Seven  and  a  half  days  later,  I  had  ac- 
complished my  overland  journey  of 
thirteen  hundred  miles,  and  in  forty 
hours  more  our  squadron  was  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  United  States;  the 
department  had  calculated  my  travel- 
ling time  to  a  nicety." 

The  story  of  Sir  John  Franklin  will 
always  be  read  with  interest — his  early 
voyages  and  journeys,  coeval  with  the 
modern  efforts  at  discovery,  his  last 
sailing  forth,  never  to  return,  in  1845  ; 
the  successive  efforts  made  by  the 
British  Government  for  the  recovery 
of  his  party,  linking  many  distinguished 
names  to  his  own ;  the  undying  faith 
and  energy  of  Lady  Franklin  surviving 
every  disappointment,  to  be  successful 
in  solving  the  sad  problem  at  last. 
Such  is  the  general  outline  of  a  narra- 
tive covering  a  period  of  fourteen  years, 
crowded  with  brilliant  adventure,  stud- 
ded with  the  names  of  Richardson,  Ross, 
Roe,  M'Clure,  and  others,  ending  with 
M'Clintock;  and  firmly  incorporated 
with  these,  the  American  DeHaven, 
Hayes,  Kane.  The  United  States  ex- 
pedition, commanded  by  DeHaven, 
gallantly  undertaken  at  the  instance  of 
Lady  Franklin,  sailed  from  New  York 
on  the  22d  of  May,  1850,  and  consisted 
of  two  brigs,  the  Advance  and  Rescue 
presented  for  the  service  by  Mr.  Henry 


ELISHA  KENT  KANE. 


291 


Griuuell,  of  New  York,  accepted  and 
officered  by  the  Navy  Department. 
To  tlie  former  of  these  vessels,  of  one 
hundred  and  forty-four  tons,  Dr.  Kane 
was  attached,  with  the  rank  of  passed 
assistant  surgeon.  He  was  personally 
unknown  to  his  commander  DeHaven 
when  they  met  on  the  eve  of  the  voy- 
age, and  might  readily  have  been  re- 
jected by  him  on  the  score  of  bodily 
insufficiency.  Indeed,  Dr.  Kane  bore 
the  voyage  so  ill — he  was  never  proof 
against  sea-sickness — that  on  the  arrival 
of  the  Advance  at  the  Whale  Fish 
Islands,  at  the  entrance  to  Baffin's  Bay, 
when  an  opportunity  for  a  return  home 
presented  itself.  Lieutenant  DeHaven 
strongly  urged  him  to  avail  himself  of 
it.  That,  however,  was  not  in  the  pro- 
gramme of  Dr.  Kane.  He  shortly  re- 
covered strength,  and  proved  himself 
one  of  the  most  useful  officers  of  this 
perilous  expedition. 

The  vessels  were  at  Disco  Bay  on  the 
twenty-fourth  of  June.  July  was  passed 
in  tugging  up  Baffin's  Bay,  between  the 
great  central  ice  field  and  the  coast  of 
Greenland,  the  end  of  the  month  bring- 
ing the  party  to  Melville  Bay;  thence, 
with  many  hardy  ice  struggles,  de- 
scending by  the  northern  passage  and 
Lancaster  Sound  through  Barrow  Straits 
to  Griffith  Island,  ascending  to  an  ulti- 
mate point  in  Wellington  Channel, 
where,  on  the  twenty-second  of  Sep- 
tember, the  land  to  the  north  and  west 
was  sighted,  to  which,  by  right  of  dis- 
covery, Captain  DeHaven  gave  the 
name  Grinnell,  in  honor  of  the  father 
of  the  expedition.  The  arctic  winter 
was  now  upon  them.  On  the  first  of 
October  the  Advance  seemed  firmly 


imbedded  for  the  season  in  a  perma- 
nent embankment  of  ice,  and  the  work 
of  preparation  for  a  winter  sojourn  was 
commenced.  To  give  greater  accom- 
modation to  the  men,  some  five  tons  of 
coal  were  taken  from  the  hold  and  re- 
moved to  a  convenient  position  on  the 
ice.  On  the  very  day  this  was  done,  a 
huge  fissure  suddenly  cut  the  Advance 
in  a  straight  northerly  and  southerly 
line  from  the  entire  floe  on  the  star- 
board side.  The  separated  piece,  parting 
a  six-inch  hawser,  "  retained  the  exact 
impression  of  the  ship's  side.  There  it 
was,  with  the  gangway  stairs  of  ice- 
block  masonry,  looking  down  upon  the 
dark  water."  On  the  port  side  the  ice 
was  fixed  and  enormous.  In  this  posi- 
tion the  Advance  awaited  its  fate.  On 
the  twelfth  of  October  there  is  this 
entry  in  our  traveller's  diary :  "  Mid- 
night. They  report  us  adrift.  Wind, 
a  gale  from  the  northward  and  west- 
ward. An  odd  cruise  this !  The 
American  expedition  fast  in  a  lump  of 
ice  about  as  big  as  Washington  Square, 
and  driving,  like  the  shanty  on  a  raft, 
before  the  howling  gale."  Thence,  in 
this  prodigious  drift,  which  had  borne 
them  up  Wellington  Channel  since  the 
middle  of  September,  down  that  pas- 
sage, through  the  length  of  Barrow 
Straits,  across  Lancaster  Sound  to  Baf- 
fin's Bay,  a  passive  struggle,  if  we  may 
use  the  term,  of  nine  months,  for  they 
were  not  entirely  free,  on  an  even  keel, 
till  the  eighth  of  June  of  the  following 
year. 

Nor  let  it  be  supposed  that  this 
great  transit  was  without  danger  or  dif- 
ficulty. In  one  way  the  means  of  com- 
munication were  provided  for,  without 


292 


ELISHA   KENT  KANE. 


nny  trouble  of  making  sail ;  hut  there 
were  all  sorts  of  peiilous  sensations  to 
be  encountered.  Wliat  with  nipping, 
grinding,  crushing,  upheaving  and  such- 
like incidents  of  ice  formation,  stimu- 
lated by  storms  and  currents,  with  the 
usual  severities  of  the  winter  in  those 
regions,  the  expedition  was  kept  in  a 
wholesome  state  of  excitement.  The 
.  early  incidents  of  the  drift  were  of  the 
most  perilous  character,  when  the  ves- 
sels were  in  momentary  expectation  of 
some  fatal  disaster  with  the  ice  about 
them  in  motion.  It  was  expected  they 
would  be  crushed  in  the  fearful  en- 
counter, and  at  one  time  in  December 
the  company  of  the  Rescue  left  the  brig 
to  take  refuge  with  the  Advance,  where 
the  prospect  was  little  better.  A  few 
words  of  Dr.  Kane's  diary  may  be  taken 
as  an  index  to  many  pages :  "  Now  the 
little  knapsack  is  made  up  again,  and 
the  blanket  ^ewed  and  strapped ;  the 
little  home  Bible  at  hand,  and  the  ice- 
clothes  ready  for  a  jump."  At  times, 
the  prospect  of  taking  to  the  ice  would 
not  admit  of  the  sledges  which  had 
been  prepared  being  employed,  the 
water  about  the  vessel  hardly  furnish- 
ino;  a  foothold ;  at  others,  the  mess  was 
marshalled  for  drill  and  practice,  "  with 
a  sledge  and  four  hundred  pounds  of 
provender."  The  timbers  and  strongly 
braced  cross-beams  of  the  vessel  vi- 
brated "  so  as  to  communicate  the  pecu- 
liar tremor  of  a  cotton  factory."  Dr. 
Kane,  meanwhile,  studied  the  heavens, 
the  mid-day  sun  on  the  horizon,  pre- 
ceding the  mid-day  moonlight;  occa- 
sionally enjoyed  a  tramp  on  his  ice 
platform,  and  sometimes  lectured  to 
the  crew  in  the  evenings  on  topics  of 


popular  science,  the  atmosphere,  the 
barometer,  etc,  "  They  are  not  a  very 
intellectual  audience,"  he  observes ; 
"  but  they  listen  with  apparent  interest, 
and  express  themselves  gratefully." 
Christmas  came,  and  they  feasted, 
laughing  and  joking,  of  course  with  a 
sober  under  current  of  home  thoughts. 
"  It  was  curious,"  writes  Kane,  "  to  ob- 
serve the  depressing  influences  of  each 
man's  home  thoughts,  and  absolutely 
saddening  the  effort  of  each  man  to  im- 
pose upon  his  neighbor,  and  be  very 
boon  and  jolly.  We  joked  incessantly, 
but  badly ;  and  laughed  incessantly, 
but  badly  too."  At  any  rate,  they  ate, 
and  drank  Mr.  Grinnell's  health,  and 
tumbled  up  on  deck  to  theatricals, 
where,  under  protection  of  course,  the 
thermometer  was  six  degrees  below 
zero,  kindly  moderating  to  four.  They 
had  the  "  Blue  Devils,"  which  required 
a  great  deal  of  prompting.  "  Megrim, 
with  a  pair  of  seal  skin  boots,  bestowed 
his  gold  upon  the  gentle  Annette ;  and 
Annette,  nearly  six  feet  high,  received 
it  with  mastodonic  grace.  Annette  was 
an  Irishman  named  Daly,  and  I  might 
defy  human  being  to  hear  her,  while 
balanced  on  the  heel  of  her  boot,  ex- 
claim, in  rich  masculine  brogue,  '  Och, 
feather!'  without  roaring."  A  joke  is 
a  thousand-fold  a  jolse  in  an  Arctic 
drift.  Think  of  celebrating  Washing- 
ton's birthday,  as  was  done  on  board 
of  the  Advance,  with  the  mercury  of 
the  ship's  thermometer,  outside,  minus 
forty-six,  "  inside,  among  audience  and 
actors,  by  aid  of  lungs,  lamps  and  hous- 
ings, we  got  as  high  as  thirty  degrees 
below  zero,  only  sixty-two  below  the 
freezing  point ! — probably  the  lowest 


ELISHA   KENT  KANE. 


293 


atuiosplieric  record  of  a  tlieatrical  re- 
presentation."   But  our  object  here  is 
not  to  paint  the  rigors  of  an  Arctic 
winter— only  to  afford  a  glimpse  of  Dr. 
Kane's  endurance,  and  his  cheerfulness 
and  resources  undei-  adverse  circum- 
stances.   Theatrical  performances  \yere, 
of  course,  but  occasional ;  the  daily  du- 
ties were  constant,  and  foremost  among 
them  was  the  preservation  of  health  for 
future  labors,  and  of  this  the  charge  of 
course  fell  to  the  surgeon  of  the  Ad- 
vance.   The  success  of  the  expedition 
in  this  respect  was  greatly  owing  to  his 
example  and  energy. 

After  a  visit  to  the  Greenland  settle- 
ments of  Proven  and  Uppernavik,  an 
unsuccessful  attempt  w^as  made  to  cross 
the  pack  with  a  view  to  resuming  the 
search  through  Wellington  Channel, 
when  Capt.  DeHaven,  following  his  in- 
stj'uctions,  turned  homewards.  The  Al- 
liance reached  IN'ew  York,  September  30, 
1851 ;  the  Eescue,  shortly  afterwards. 

Kane  Avas  no  sooner  home  than  he 
turned  his  attention  to  a  second  expe- 
dition to  the  region  he  had  left  behind 
him.    It  was  his  desire  at  first  to  start 
the  ensuing  spring,  but  other  duties 
were  in  store  for  him — the  most  serious, 
attendance  at  the  bedside  of  a  dying 
younger  brother,  a  youth  of  fifteeii^ 
another  heroic  member  of  the  family. 
Then  his  book,  the  account  of  his  voyage, 
was  in  preparation,  and  the  exacting, 
unaccustomed  labor  taxed  his  strength' 
heavily.    He  appears  to  have  published 
nothing  before,  if  we  except  his  medi- 
cal treatise ;  his  letters  do  not  seem  to 
have  been  frequent,  and  though,  when 
he  did  take  pen  in  hand,  he  always 
\^a-ote  to  the  purpose,  it  was  evidently 


VOL.  n. — '67 


altogether  from  impulse,  not  from  any 
great  desire  or  trained  habit  of  writing. 
This,  while  it  was  an  advantage  to  him 
m  one  respect,  w^as  an  inconvenience  in 
another.    It  gave  to  his  writing  an  un- 
hackneyed spirit  and  freshness;  but 
when  method  and  exactness  were  re- 
quired and  his  fastidiousness  could  not 
dispense  with  them,  dash  and  brilliancy 
could  serve  him  little.    They  could  not 
spare  him  the  drudgery  ^vhich  belongs 
more  or  less  to  all  regular  authorship, 
especially  with   topics  of  a  scientific 
nature.    When  the  book  was  written, 
it  proved  a  bright,  intelligent  picture 
of  its  subject,  and  an  honest  representa- 
tion of  the  man,  perfectly  self-reflecting 
and  as  remarkably  modest  and  trutliful. 
His  ready  use  of  his  pencil  in  the  illus- 
trations which  he  added  to  the  l)ook, 
showed  the  taste  and  capacity  of  a 
good  artist,  and  were  admirable  accom- 
paniments to  his  picturesque  languaf>-e 
This  work  which,  in  recognition  of 
the  joint  nature  of  the  exploration,  bore 
the  title,  "  The  United  States  Grinnell 
Expedition  in  Search  of  Sir  John  Frank- 
lin— A  Personal  Narrative,"  was  going 
through  the  press,  having  been  delayed 
on  the  eve  of  publication,  in  December, 
by  the  fire  of  the  Messrs.  Plarpers'  es- 
tablishment in  New  York,  where  it  was 
printed,  w-hen  its  author  started  on  his 
second  Arctic  journey.    This  was  still 
more  of  a  private  enterprise  than  the 
other.    Mr.  Grinnell  again  furnished 
the  Advance,  the  eminent  merchant, 
Mr.  Peabody,  paid  largely,  the  Geo- 
graphical  and   other   societies  made 
important  contributions,  the  Navy  De- 
partment, at  Washington,  also  lent  its 
aid ;  while  Dr.  Kane,  himself,  bestowed 


294 


ELISHA   KENT  KANE. 


considerable  sums,  the  proceeds  of  lec- 
tures delivered  by  Mm  tlie  previous 
winter,  on  Arctic  discovery.    By  the 
intelligent  aid  of  Mr.  Kennedy,  at  the 
time  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  an  order 
had  been  issued,  connecting  the  Expe- 
dition to  a  certain  extent  with  the 
government.     His  plan  was  to  unite 
an  overland  expedition  with  his  mari- 
time adventure,  to  sail  to  a  northern 
point  of  Greenland,  disembark,  and  tra- 
verse the  country  on  sledges  to  an  open 
Polar  sea,  of  which  he  inferred  the  exis- 
tence, when  he  might  examine  the 
coast  lines  for  traces  of  the  missing  Sir 
John  Franklin  and  his  men. 

The  Advance,  with  Dr.  Kane  as  its 
commander,  Henry  Brooks,  first-officer, 
Dr.  Isaac  J.  Hayes,  surgeon,  August 
Sontag,  astronomer,  and  a  crew  of  four 
teen  men,  ten  sent  by  the  navy  depart- 
ment, set  sail  from  New  York  on  her 
second  voyage,  on  the  30th  May,  1853. 
The  instructions  of  the  Secretary  of  the 
Navy,  in  accordance  with  the  plans  of 
Dr.  Kane,  were  "  to  conduct  an  over- 
land journey,  from  the  upper  waters 
of  Baffin's  Bay  to  the  shores  of  the 
Polar  Seas."    Traversing  the  waters  of 
Baffin's  Bay,  the    Advance  penetrat- 
ed with  difficulty  the   upper  waters 
along   the  coasts  of  Greenland,  till 
her  further  movements  were  finally  ar 
rested  by  the  ice,  in  the  distant  lati- 
tude Y8°  43'  N,  reached  at  the  end  of 
August.    On  the  tenth  of  September, 
the  brig  was  fairly  frozen  in  at  a  spot, 
named  by  Dr.  Kane,  Rensselaer  Har- 
bor, and  there,  on  the  eighth  of  June, 
1855,  she  was  finally  abandoned.  This 
interval  of  twenty-one  months,  inclu- 
ding the  rigors  of  two  winters,  spent 


under  terrific  hardships,  comprehends 
the  period  of  exploration  and  discov-  • 
ery  of  the  expedition ;  if  we  may  ex- 
cept from  this  honorable  designation, 
the  severe  trials  and  experiences  of  the 
final  retreat.    It  was  variously  occupied 
in  tours  of  examination  along  the  far 
coast  of  Greenland  to  the  open  north- 
ern sea.^  the  discovery  of  which  con- 
firmed to  a  great  extent,  the  previous 
theories  of  the  commander.    The  his- 
tory of  these  explorations,  vividly  re- 
corded in  the  pages  of  Dr.  Kane's 
volumes,  presents  one  of  the  most  for- 
midable  struggles   ever  encountered 
with  the  obstacles  of  nature,  by  the 
courage  and  physical  strength  of  man. 
To  the  absolute  privations  of  cold  were 
added  the  most  fearful  forms  of  spas- 
modic disease  in  lock-jaw,  which,  like 
the  pestilence  of  Apollo  among  the 
Trojans,  extended  its  ravages  to  the 
swift  dogs — a  main  dependence  of  the 
party.    Fifty-seven  of  these  indispensa- 
ble animals,  procured  on  the  voyage 
at  the  Esquimaux  settlements  ^l^elow, 
perished  the  first  season,  while  the  men 
were  racked  with  these  unaccustomed 
tortures  in  "the  lengthened  cold  and 
darkness."    In  March,  a  party  was  or- 
ganized for  exploration  from  the  brig, 
under  Mi\  Brooks.    They  were  met, 
on  the  ninth  day,  by  a  heavy  gale, 
with  the  thermometer  fifty-seven  de- 
grees  below   zero;   the   leader  and 
three   of   his   companions   were  so 
frozen  as  to  be  incapable  of  further 
motion,  and  were  left  with  one  atten- 
dant, while  the  rest  returned  to  the 
Advance  for  succor.    Dr.  Kane  took 
the  command  of  the  relief  party,  pro- 
videntially struck  the  trail,  and  reached 


ELISHA  KENT  KANE. 


295 


tlie  small  canvas  tent  of  his  comrades, 
almost  covered  with  the  snow-drift. 
Twice  he  fainted  on  the  way  in  the 
snow,  in  this  unbroken  march  of  twenty- 
one  hours,  with  the  thermometer  in  the 
neighborhood  of  fifty  degrees  below 
zero.  The  return  to  the  brio^  was 
equally  hazardous.  The  invalids  were 
packed  in  bales  on  the  single  sledge, 
and  so  they  were  borne  over  and 
around  the  ridgy  hummocks  of  that 
fearful  march  by  their  companions. 
Life  was  preserved  only  by  a  hand  to 
hand  fight  vdth  death,  and  at  the  end 
of  a  journey  of  eighty-one  sleepless 
hours  out  of  eighty-four,  there  was  not 
one,  says  Kane,  whose  mind  was  found 
to  be  unimpaired.  Jefferson  Baker, 
one  of  the  party,  died  within  two  days 
of  lock-jaw. 

Other  journeys,  determining  the  coast 
line,  were  undertaken  in  April  and 
May,  under  the  command  of  Dr.  Kane, 
and  in  June  by  Di-.  Hayes.  And  in  the 
next  month,  William  Morton,  with 
Hans  Heindrick,  penetrating  to  the 
most  distant  point  yet  reached  in  this 
direction,  at  the  latitude  of  about 
eighty-one,  discovered  to  the  north- 
west, a  channel  and  the  expected  open 
sea.  There,  looking  forth  "from  a 
height  of  four  hundred  and  eighty  feet, 
which  commanded  an  horizon  of  almost 
forty  miles,  his  ears  were  gladdened 
vrith  the  novel  music  of  dashing  waves ; 
and  a  surf,  breaking  in  among  the 
rocks  at  his  feet,  stayed  his  farther 
progress."  1  Morton  gratefully  called 
this  cape  after  the  name  of  his  com- 
mander, but  Kane,  with  characteristic 


'  Kane's  2d  Expedition,  I.  305. 


modesty,  named  it  Constitution.  To 
the  vast  northerly  inland  region  of 
Greenland,  he  gave  the  name  Washing- 
ton. 

The  hardships  of  the  second  winter 
endured  by  the  brig's  company  were 
an  aggravation  of  those  of  the  first. 
The  health  of  the  men  was  greatly  im- 
paired, and  their  scant  provision  com- 
pelled them  ■  to  use  articles  of  food 
which  induced  scurvy.    "  Mr.  Bonsall 
and  myself  only,"  says  Kane  of  this 
trying  time,  "  remained  able  to  attend 
upon  the  sick  and  carry  on  the  daily 
work  of  the  ship,  if  that  name  could 
still  appropriately  designate  the  bur- 
row which  we  inhabited."    "  A  set  of 
scurvy-riddled,  broken-down  men,"  he 
elsewhere  calls  his  company  at  this 
time.    It  was  a  matter  of  duty,  Kane 
thought,  to  stand  by  his  vessel,  and  not 
risk  the  chances  of  leaving  her  on  the 
edge  of  winter ;  but,  thinking  the  case 
a  peculiar  one,  he  left  his  men  free  to 
follow  their  own  determination.  Con- 
sequently, at  the  end  of  August,  eight 
of  the  party,  with  Dr.  Hayes,  the  sur- 
geon of  the  expedition,  having  received 
a  liberal  portion  of  the  supplies,  set  out 
on  their  journey  to  the  settlements. 
The  hardships  which  they  experienced, 
recounted  in  Dr.  Hayes'  published  nar- 
rative, like  the  books  of  his  commander, 
a  memorable  record  of  courage  and  en- 
durance, confirmed  the  worst  anticipa- 
tions from  their  setting  out.   They  were 
obliged  to  return  to  the  ship  in  Decem- 
ber from  their   protracted  journey. 
These,  however,  or  the  like  adventures, 
were  to  be  repeated  by  all  in  the  early 
summer  of  the  next  year,  when  the 
vessel  was  abandoned,  and  a  journey, 


296 


ELISITA   KENT  KANE. 


partly  by  boats,  partly  by  sledges,  en- 
counterinsf  tlie  most  arduous  difficulties 
of  Arctic  travel,  brought  tlie  company 
to  Upernavik  on  tlie  sixtb  of  August, 
1855.    There  they  took  passage  in  a 
Danish  vessel,  with  the  expectation  of 
beino;  landed  at  the  Shetland  Isles, 
when,  touching  on  the  voyage  at  Disco 
Bay,  they  were  opportunely  met  by 
the  vessels,  the  Relief  and  Advance, 
sent  out  by  the  government,  under  the 
command  of  Captain   Hartstene,  for 
their  recovery.     The  meeting  of  the 
friends  in  the  harbor — terminating  the 
lono-  series  of  trials  of  Kane  and  the 
brave  and  adventurous  voyaging  of 
Hartstene — simply  but  vividly  narrated 
in  the  closing  passages  of  Dr.  Kane's 
second  narrative,  is  a  meet  conclusion 
of  these  heroic  wanderings.   "  "We  were 
on  the  eve  of  setting  out,"  says  Kane  in 
these  last  sentences,  alluding  to  the 
Danish  vessel  then  at  Lievely,  "when 
the  look-out  man  at  the  hill-top  an- 
nounced a  steamer  in  the  distance.  It 
drew  near,  with  a  barque  in  tow,  and 
we   soon  recognized  the    stars  and 
stripes  of  our  own  country.  The  Faith  ^ 
was  lowered  for  the  last  time  into  the 
water,  and  the  little  flag  which  had 
floated  so  near  the  poles  of  both  hemi- 
spheres, opened  once  more  to  the  breeze. 
.    ,    .    Presently  we  were  alongside. 
An  officer,  whom  I  shall  ever  remem- 
ber as   a   cherished  friend.  Captain 
Hartstene,  hailed  a  little  man  in  a 
rao-ged  flannel  shirt,  '  Is  that  Dr.  Kane?' 
and  with  the  '  Yes  !'  that  followed,  the 
rigging  Avas  manned  by  our  country- 
men, and  cheers  welcomed  us  back  to 

'  The  boat  which  they  had  brought  from  the  Advance, 
now  preserved  at  the  Brooklyn  Navy  Yard. 


the  social  world  of  love  which  they 
represented." 

The  party  reached  New  York  on  the 
eleventh  of  October,  and  the  city  and 
country  hailed  their  arrival;  for  seve- 
ral years  of  trial  on  that  distinguished 
theatre  of  action  had  fixed  the  minds 
of  the  people  upon  these  gallant  adven- 
turers.   The  extent  of  the  interest  cre- 
ated may  be  judged  by  the  avidity  with 
which  the  somewhat  expensive  narra- 
tive of  the  last  voyage  was  subscribed 
for — the  sale  reaching  in  one  year  the 
hitherto  unprecedented  number,  for  a 
work  of  the  kind,  of  sixty-five  thousand 
copies.     In  the  preparation  of  this 
work  Kane  was  soon  diligently  en- 
gaged ;  but,  as  he  had  left  his  previous 
book  on  its  completion  to  sail  to  the 
north,  so  he  was  compelled  to  run  away 
from  the  completed  manuscript  of  the 
second — to  regain  the  health,  if  possi- 
ble, which  he  had  lost  while  writing  it. 
He  dates  his  preface  the  fourth  of  July, 
but  the  appendix  continued  to  occupy 
him.     The  book  had  just  been  pub- 
lished when  its  author  sailed  to  Europe 
from  New  York  in  the  Collins'  steamer 
Baltic,  the  tenth  of  October,  1856, 
"accompanied,"  in  the  words  of  Dr. 
Elder,  "by  the  faithful  Morton,  who 
had  gone  with  him  to  the  world's  end, 
and  was  now  to  go  with  him  to  the 
end  of  his  life."    Consumptive  symp- 
toms were  now  added  to  his  old  diffi- 
culties, which  were  aggravated  by  the 
fogs  of  London  at  the  untimely  season 
of  his  arrival.     He  passed  but  eight 
days  in  the  capital,  and  was  too  ill  to 
attend  the  meeting  of  the  Eoyal  Geo- 
graphical Society,  which  sent  its  Presi- 
dent to  his  lodgings  with  its  resolutions 


ELTSHA  KENT  KANE. 


297 


of  admiration.  Following  medical  ad- 
vice, lie  sailed  immediately  for  a  warmer 
latitude  iu  the  West  Indies,  readied  St. 
Thomas,  became  fearfully  ill  on  his 
voj'age  thence  to  Cuba,  which  he  reach- 
ed on  Christmas  Day.  Here,  at  Havana, 
joined  by  his  mother  and  brother  from 
New  York,  he  lingered  out  the  feeble 
remnant  of  life  till  the  day  of  his  death, 
having  just  completed  his  thirty-seventh 
year,  the  sixteentli  of  February,  1857. 

Every  honor  was  paid  the  remains 
of  the  voyager  whose  fate  it  was  to  die 
in  the  city  whicb  held  the  ashes  of 
Columbus.  The  University  and  the 
authorities  of  Havana,  the  citizens  of 
New  Orleans,  of  Louisville,  Cincinnati, 
Columbus,  Baltimore,  througb  wMcb 
cities  his  body  was  conducted  in  one 
great  funeral  procession  to  Philadel- 
phia, marked  the  occasion  by  appro- 
priate ceremonies.  The  services  at 
Philadelphia  were  peculiarly  imposing. 
His  remains  were  finally  laid  in  the 
family  tomb  at  Laurel  Hill  cemetery. 


The  superiority  of  mind  to  body 
never  had  a  more  striking  illustration 
than  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Kane.  He  tri- 
umphed by  sheer  energy  of  will.  The 
fiery  spirit  whicb  might  have  worn  out 
others  quickened  and  exalted  him.  In 
his  vivid  conceptions  and  striking  lan- 
guage he  was  essentially  a  poet — one 
of  those  who  lives  thrice  the  life  of 
common  men  in  quickness  and  sensibi- 
lity. So  that  we  may  not  pronounce  his 
life  sliort  or  his  death  untimely.  His 
eager  spirit  wrung  from  fate  a  triumpb 
ant  experience  seldom  granted  even  to 
fourscore.  He  achieved  fame  and  suc- 
cess in  the  eye  of  the  world  in  a  noble 
sphere  of  action,  and  has  left  a  most 
endui'ing  monument  of  his  exertions  in 
his  truthful  and  eloquent  writings. 
Had  he  lived,  he  doubtless  would  have 
added  to  his  fame  a  great  reputation  in 
science,  upon  whicli  his  mind  was  bent ; 
but  he  has  left  enough  in  this  depart- 
ment to  cause  his  name  for  that  also  to 
be  permanently  remembered. 


CHARLES 


WILKES. 


This  eminent  naval  officer  was  "born 
in  the  city  of  'New  York,  in  the  year 
1801.  Of  a  family  and  connexions  of 
high  standing  in  the  community,  he 
chose  the  navy  for  a  pursuit,  at  a  time 
when  its  heroes  of  the  war  of  1812 
were  at  the  height  of  their  reputation, 
and  the  enticements  of  the  profession 
were  most  fascinating  to  an  ingenuous 
youth.  Pie  entered  the  service  about 
the  asre  of  fifteen.  He  was  with  Com- 
modore  McDonough  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean station,  in  1819  and  1820,  and 
the  following  year  with  Commodore 
Stewart  on  the  Pacific,  where  he  ac- 
quired a  reputation  by  his  services 
which  gained  him  a  separate  command, 
lie  was  promoted  in  1826,  to  a  lieute- 
nancy. In  1830,  he  was  appointed  to 
the  charge  of  the  depot  of  charts  and 
instruments  at  Washington,  when,  says 
his  biographer,  in  "Appleton's  Cyclo- 
paedia," "  he  was  the  first  in  the  United 
States  to  set  up  fixed  astronomic  instru- 
ments and  observe  with  them.  The 
observatory  was  in  his  own  garden, 
where  he  was  prevented  from  enclosing 
in  a  permanent  structure  the  stone 
piers  to  which  his  instruments  were 
attached,  by  an  informal  notice  from 
the  Navy  Department  that  a  National 
Observatory  was  unconstitutional."  He 
was  subsequently  engaged  in  a  diffi- 

208 


cult  and  successful  survey  of  George's 
Bank. 

When  the  United  States  Government 
had,  after  many  suggestions  on  the  sub- 
ject, finally  resolved,  agreeably  to  the 
precedents  of  various  European  nations, 
upon  setting  on  foot  a  National  Ex- 
ploring Expedition  on  a  liberal  scale. 
Lieutenant  Wilkes  was  chosen  its  com- 
mander. The  act  of  Congress  author- 
izing the  expedition,  was  passed  in  the 
spring  of  1836.  Its  main  object  was 
to  facilitate  American  commerce  in  the 
interests  of  the  whale  fisheries  and 
other  advantages  in  the  vast  middle 
and  South  Pacific  ocean,  by  a  thorough 
exploration  of  that  sea  with  its  various 
groups  of  islands,  and  the  preparation 
of  accurate  charts  for  the  safety  of 
future  voyagers.  Ample  provision  was 
made  in  the  appointment  of  scientific 
men  of  well  settled  reputation,  to  take 
charge  of  the  different  departments  of 
observation.  Two  naturalists,  Charles 
Pickering  and  T.  R.  Peale;  a  mineral- 
ogist, James  D.  Dana ;  a  botanist,  Wil- 
liam Rich ;  a  philologist,  Horatio  Hale ; 
two  draughtsmen,  Joseph  Drayton  and 
Alfred  Agate,  were  among  the  persons 
of  this  class  assigned  to  the  expedition. 
Five  vessels  were  selected  for  the  ser- 
vice, the  sloops  of  war  Vincennes  and 
Peacock,  the  brig  Porpoise,  and  two 


I  I 


CHARLES  WILKES. 


299 


New  York  pilot  boats  converted  into 
the  tenders  renamed  Sea-gull  and  Fly- 
ing Fish.  These  constituted  the  squad- 
ron of  which  Lieutenant  Wilkes  was 
appointed  commander.  His  instruc- 
tions, prepared  by  the  Secretary  of  the 
Ncivy,  the  eminent  author  J.  K.  Paul- 
ding, marked  out  the  track  of  the  ex- 
pedition. It  was  to  sail  from  Norfolk 
by  wa}'-  of  Rio  Janeiro  to  the  Rio 
Negro  and  Terra  del  Fuego,  where  the 
Porpoise,  with  the  tenders,  was  to  pro- 
ceed to  an  exploration  of  the  southern 
antarctic.  Rejoining  its  comrades,  the 
whole  squadron,  after  sweeping  a  vast 
track  of  the  southern  ocean,  were  to  put 
in  to  Valparaiso  for  supplies,  visit  next 
various  groups  of  islands,  the  Naviga- 
tors, Feejee  and  others,  making  for 
Sydney  in  New  Holland,  whence  a 
second  attempt  was  to  be  made  to 
penetrate  within  the  antarctic  region 
south  of  Van  Dieman's  land.  The 
Sandwich  Islands,  mth  the  north  west 
coast  of  America,  Oregon,  and  Cali- 
fornia were  afterward  to  be  visited, 
when  the  expedition,  coming  to  the  Sea 
of  Japan  and  the  coasts  of  China,  was 
to  return  home  by  the  way  of  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope.  Such  was  the  compre- 
hensive plan  entrusted  to  Lieutenant 
\  Wilkes  and  his  able  coadjutors.  Its 
execution  occupied  nearly  four  years 
from  the  date  of  leaving  Norfolk  in 
August,  1838,  to  the  return  to  New 
York  in  June,  1842.  The  design  was 
successfully  carried  out,  the  various 
lands  indicated  were  visited,  and  abun- 
dant observations  taken  of  their  poli- 
tical, social,  physical,  and  material  con- 
ditions ;  of  what  nature  had  done  for 
them,  and  how  man  was  employing  his 


opportunities.  In  addition  to  the  sur- 
vey of  regions  within  the  usual  path 
of  commerce,  the  adventure  and  ori- 
ginal observations  in  the  antarctic 
cruise  in  the  beginning  of  1840,  en- 
titled the  expedition  to  the  honors  of 
discovery.  For  this  and  other  con- 
tributions to  scientific  knowledge  in 
this  extensive  voyage.  Lieutenant 
Wilkes  was  awarded  the  gold  medal  of 
the  Geographical  Society  of  London.  In 
1845,  he  published  his  "Narrative  of  the 
United  States  Exploring  Expedition," 
in  five  volumes,  amply  illustrated  by 
the  artists  who  accompanied  him.  It  is 
not  merely  an  interesting  account  of 
the  various  vicissitudes  and  sea-adven- 
tures of  the  voyage,  but  a  valuable 
summary  of  the  multifarious  knowledge 
acquired  in  the  different  departments 
of  the  expedition. 

In  1849,  commander  Wilkes  pub- 
lished a  second  work  entitled  "  Western 
America,  including  California  and  Ore- 
gon," which  was  welcomed  for  its  im- 
portant contributions  to  the  knowledge 
of  a  region  whose  sudden  rise  as  the 
seat  of  empire  on  the  Pacific  was  to  be 
a  wonder  even  among  the  rapid  tri- 
umphs of  American  civilization.  Cap- 
tain Wilkes — he  attained  the  rank  in 
1855 — continued  to  be  employed  in 
home  duty  till,  in  the  first  year  of  the 
rebellion,  he  was  sent  in  command  of 
the  steamsloop  San  Jacinto,  to  the  coast 
of  Africa.  It  was  on  his  return  from 
this  voyage  that  an  event  occurred 
which  brought  Captain  Wilkes  pro- 
minently before  the  world  and  en- 
grafted his  name  on  the  history  of 
maritime  jurisprudence. 

On  his  approach  to  the  American 


300 


CHARLES  WILKES. 


coast,  Captain  Wilkes,  at  tlie  island  of 
St.  Thomas,  learning  of  the  movements 
of  the  Confederate  war  vessel  Sumter, 
went  in  search  of  her  in  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  Ilearino;  that  the  Confederate 
ambassadors  Messrs.  Mason  and  Slidell 
had  escaped  the  blockade  of  Charles- 
ton, and  were  on  their  way  to  Europe, 
he  resolved  to  intercept  them.  The 
vessel  in  which  they  had  embarked 
reached  Havana,  where  the  ambassa- 
dors took  passage  in  the  British  steamer 
Trent.  Assuring  himself  to  his  satis- 
faction of  his  legal  rights  in  the  pre- 
mises, Captain  Wilkes  determined  to 
lie  in  wait  for  the  Trent  and  remove 
her  "  contraband  "  passengers.  He  ac- 
cordingly, on  the  eighth  of  November, 
1861,  stopped  the  Trent  in  the  Ba- 
hama Channel,  off  the  coast  of  Cuba, 
and  demanded  the  surrender  of  the 
"  ambassadors."  The  proceeding  w^as 
conducted  with  all  due  courtesy,  but 
naturally  in  the  existing  temper  of 
British  officials,  produced  something  of 
a  scene  on  board  the  steamer.  "  Much, 
persuasion,"  says  Captain  Wilkes,  "  was 
employed,  and  a  little  force,"  when  the 
ambassadors  and  their  secretaries  of  the 
legation  were  secured  and  carried  off 
in  triumph.  On  the  15th,  the  San 
Jacinto,  with  her  extraordinary  passen- 
gers, reached  HamjDton  Roads,  whence 
she  proceeded  to  New  York,  where  she 
was  met  by  an  order  to  carry  the 
prisoners  to  Fort  Warren,  in  Boston 


harbor.  At  Boston,  at  New  York,  and 
elsewhere.  Captain  Wilkes  was  feted 
for  his  energetic  proceeding,  which  was 
generally  commended.  The  lawyers 
approved  of  the  act,  and  Captain 
Wilkes  justified  tlie  arrest  of  the  am- 
bassadors as  "  the  embodiment  of  des- 
patches," a  solution  as  ingenious  as 
General  Butler's  solution  of  the  nesro 
difficulty  in  an  early  period  of  the  war, 
by  liberating  and  employing  the  colored 
man  under  the  new  name  whick  he 
gave  kirn  of  "  contraband."  Congress 
also,  at  the  opening  of  the  session,  en- 
dorsed the  act,  but  the  Government 
did  not  commit  itself.  The  subject 
passed  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Seward, 
the  Secretary  of  State,  who,  anticipat- 
ing the  demands  of  England,  held  the 
affair  open  for  diplomatic  consideration. 
The  claims  of  Great  Britain  were  con- 
sequently met  with  dignity,  and  though 
Messrs.  Mason  and  Slidell  were  sur- 
rendered, some  important  American 
principles  regarding  the  rights  of  neu- 
trals were  established  in  the  dis 
cussion. 

Subsequently  to  this  affair,  in  1862, 
Captain  Wilkes  was  raised  to  the  rank 
of  Commodore,  and  in  August  of  that 
year  was  placed  in  command  of  the 
flotilla  in  James'  Kiver.  He  afterward, 
as  acting  Rear  Admiral,  sailed  in  com 
mand  of  a  squadron  sent  in  quest  of 
the  Confederate  privateers  or  vessels  of 
war  in  tke  West  Indies. 


WILLIAM  JEN 


KINS  WORTH. 


Tnis  distinguislied  officer  of  the  Mex- 
ican war,  who  led  his  gallant  division 
in  so  many  important  actions  from  the 
first  arrival  of  General  Taylor  at  the 
Eio  Grande  to  the  last  victory  of  Gen- 
eral Scott  at  the  capital,  was  born  in 
Hudson,  Columbia  county.  New  York, 
March  1,  1*794.  His  family  was  of  an 
old  New  England  stock.  We  are  told, 
in  the  brief  accounts  of  his  life  which 
have  been  published,  little  of  his  early 
education.  He  appears  to  have  been 
well  instructed  in  the  ordinary  English 
bi'anches,  and  being  a  youth  of  decided 
ability,  he  needed  little  more  to  ad- 
vance him  in  the  world.  It  is  said  that 
when  he  was  quite  young  he  was  en- 
gaged as  a  clerk  in  a  store  at  Albany ; 
but  he  could  not  have  been  long  em- 
ployed in  merchandise,  for  we  find  him 
at  the  age  of  eighteen,  on  the  breaking 
out  of  the  war  of  1812,  occupied  in  the 
service  of  General  Morgan  Lewis  as  his 
secretary,  and  in  the  spring  of  the  fol- 
lowing year  accompanying  that  officer 
to  the  scene  of  military  operations  on 
the  Canada  frontier  with  the  rank  of 
lieutenant.  In  the  capture  of  Fort 
George,  in  the  month  of  May,  he  acted 
as  aid  to  General  Levds,  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing November  reappears  in  the  en- 
gagement at  Chrystler's  Farm  on  the 
St.  Lawrence,  his  name  being  especially 
(1.-88 


mentioned  with  honor  in  the  dispatch 
of  General  Boyd,  who  commanded  on 
that  occasion. 

He  continued  in  service  on  the  fron- 
tier, and  in  the  spring  of  the  following 
year  was  diligently  employed  in  study- 
ing the  art  of  war  in  the  drill  operations 
and  manoeuvres  of  General  Scott's  cele- 
brated "  Cam  J)  of  Instruction  "  at  Buf- 
falo. We  learn  this  from  the  correspon- 
dence which  passed  between  the  young 
officer  and  his  friend  General  Lewis, 
who  invited  him  in  June  to  New  York 
to  become  once  more  a  member  of  his 
military  family.  It  was  on  the  eve  of 
the  movement  of  Scott's  brio-ade  toward 
the  field  of  Chippewa  that  the  ardent 
young  soldier  replied,  having  partici- 
pated in  three  months'  fatigues  of  the 
Camp  of  Instruction,  the  enemy  being 
within  striking  distance,  separated  only 
by  the  Niagara,  which  we  cross  on  the 
morrow,  and  the  battle-field  in  view, 
will,  I  trust,  excuse  my  choice.  The 
campaign  promises  to  be  a  stirring  one, 
and  you,  I  am  sure,  would  not  pardon 
my  leaving." 

A  few  days  after  this  manly  letter 
was  sent  the  battle  of  Chipj)ewa  was 
fought,  and  how  well  the  writer  kept 
the  promise  of  his  epistle  on  that  occa- 
sion is  witnessed  in  the  generous  tri- 
bute of  General  Scott  to  his  merits  in 

801 


803 


WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH. 


tlic  field,  Avliere  lie  served  as  one  of  liis 
aids.  ''His  zeal  and  intrepidity  won 
the  admiration  of  tlie  wliole  brigade." 
He  also  received  tlie  acknowledgment 
of  Ms  services  in  promotion  to  tlie  rank 
of  captain.  He  was,  again,  in  tke  sequel 
of  this  fight  in  the  campaign,  the  still 
more  deadly  engagements  at  Niagara 
and  Lundy's  Lane.  In  that  series  of 
close  encounters  few  who  did  their  duty 
could  escape,  and  Worth,  like  the  brave 
ofiScer  whom  he  served,  bore  with  him 
painful  proof  of  valor  from  the  field. 
He  was  incapacitated  for  further  duty 
in  the  war  now  approaching  its  close 
by  his  severe  wound ;  but  he  bore  with 
him  to  his  retirement  the  dearest 
rewards  of  the  soldier  in  the  honors 
of  that  brilliant  campaign  on  the  Niag- 
ara River.  "  The  conduct  of  Captain 
Worth,  my  aid-de-camp,"  wrote  Gene- 
ral Scott  in  his  dispatch  to  the  war 
department,  "  was  marked  with  his 
usual  skill  and  gallantry.  I  had  already 
derived  much  benefit  from  his  services, 
when  he  received  a  wound,  at  the  mo- 
ment believed  to  be  mortal,  in  the  act 
of  passing  through  a  blaze  of  fire  to 
communicate  an  order.  His  conduct  in 
this  second  affair  will  not  only  bear  a 
comparison  with  his  own  services  in 
the  first,  but  with  the  services  of  any 
other  ofiicer  of  his  rank  in  either 
action."  In  recompense  for  these  dis- 
tins;uished  services,  he  received  the  far- 
ther  rank  of  major. 

Major  Wortl,  was  for  a  year  con- 
fined to  his  bed  and  room  by  his 
wound,  which  left  him  with  a  lameness 
for  life.  On  his  recovery  he  was 
appointed  commandant  at  West  Point, 
and  served  for  many  years  at  that  mili- 


tary academy  as  instructor  of  tactics. 
In  1824,  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
lieutenant-colonel.  In  1832,  he  received 
his  commission  as  major  of  ordnance. 
In  1835,  he  was  voted  a  sivord  by 
the  legislature  of  New  York  for  his 
ability  as  an  officer  and  for  his  personal 
bravery  in  the  battles  of  the  late  war 
with  Great  Britain.  In  1838,  as  colo- 
nel of  the  eighth  regiment  of  infantry, 
he  was  employed  on  the  Niagara  fron- 
tier in  allaying  the  disturbance  excited 
by  the  insurgent  Bill  Johnson,  in  what 
is  known  as  the  patriot  war.  His  firm- 
ness and  consideration  in  the  discharge 
of  this  delicate  duty  exhibited  the 
higher  qualities  of  the  soldier. 

It  was  his  good  fortune,  also,  after  the 
laborious  efforts  of  many  distinguished 
officers  who  had  taken  part  in  the  vex- 
atious struggle,  to  bring  the  Florida 
war  to  a  termination.  He  was  the  last 
officer  placed  in  command  by  the  gov- 
ernment in  that  region,  succeeding  Gen- 
eral Armistead  at  the  head-quarters  of 
the  army  at  Tampa  Bay,  on  the  31st 
of  May,  1841.  The  war  had  then  been 
in  progress  for  more  than  five  years 
accumulating  about  the  army  a  herd  of 
camp  followers,  civilians  who  fattened 
on  the  government  contracts  for  pro- 
visions, transportation,  and  the  numer- 
ous necessities  of  the  army  in  this  novel 
and  difficult  region.  "The  army  of 
Florida,"  says  the  historian  of  the  war, 
"  had  become  a  component  part  of  a 
civil  government,  to  which  it  was  in 
many  respects  subservient.  The  influ- 
ences operating  were  unmilitaryin  cha- 
racter and  effect."^    It  was  necessary 


'  Sprague's  Florida  War,  p.  268. 


WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH. 


303 


to  break  tlirougli  this  system  as  well  as 
to  follow  up  the  eueiiiy  witli  vigor. 
The  first  order  of  the  new  commander 
exhibits  the  ^irit  with  which  he 
eucoimtered  the  work  before  him.  It 
enjoins  that  all  expenditures  of  money 
on  account  of  barracks,  etc.,  at  tempo- 
rary posts,  except  such  slight  covering 
as  might  be  indispensable,  must  be  first 
sanctioned  at  head-quarters ;  it  revokes 
all  safeguards  and  passports  granted  to 
Indians,  thus  cutting  off  a  prolific 
source  of  treachery;  it  requires  the 
incessant  scouring  of  the  country  adja- 
cent to  the  numerous  posts,  removing 
oil  restraints  previously  imposed  upon 
district  commanders  in  respect  to  offen- 
sive field  operations,  and  provides  for 
three  re|)orts  each  month  of  the  results 
of  this  activity.  The  energy  imparted  by 
proceedings  like  these  brought  the  war 
to  an  early  termination.  In  April,  1842, 
Colonel  Worth  himself  directed  the 
movements  and  bore  part  in  the  decisive 
engagement  which  led  to  the  capture  of 
the  redoubtable  chieftain  Halleck  Tus- 
tenuggee,  the  last  formidable  supporter 
of  the  war.  The  greater  part  of  the 
remaininsc  hostile  Indians  were  removed 
from  the  country,  and  in  August  the 
pacification  was  pronounced  complete. 

Worth,  ever  acquitting  himself  with 
honor  v/here  distinction  was  attainable, 
alwa}'s  came  out  of  his  campaigns  with 
fresh  promotion.  His  well-earned  titles 
were  the  result  of  actual  service.  Thus, 
as  we  have  seen,  his  conduct  at  Chip- 
pewa and  Niagara  followed  by  his  bre- 
vet commissions  as  captain  and  major, 
and  his  lieutenant-colouelship  following 
"  ten  years  faithful  service  in  the  grade 
of  brevet  major;"  so,  for  his  "  gallantry 


and  highly  distinguished  services  as 
commander  of  the  forces  in  the  war 
against  the  Florida  Indians,"  he  re- 
ceived, in  August,  1842,  the  commis- 
sion of  brigadier-general  by  brevet. 

On  the  first  movement  of  the  army 
of  occupation  toward  the  Rio  Grande, 
the  initial  step  of  the  war  with  INIexico, 
General  Worth  was  with  the  force  of 
General  Taylor,  gallantly  leading  the 
wa}:'  in  the  first  venturous  crossing  of 
the  Colorado,  When  the  army  reached 
its  station  opposite  Matamoras.  he  was 
employed  in  the  preliminary  conferences 
with  the  Mexican  authorities  at  that 
place.  In  one  of  these  unsatisfactory 
negotiations  he  was  met  by  General 
Vega,  with  whom  he  sustained  a  spi- 
rited colloquy  on  the  relations  of  the 
two  countries.  The  replies  of  General 
Worth  were  direct  and  to  the  point. 
"  Is  it,"  he  was  asked,  "  the  intention  of 
General  Taylor  to  remain  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Rio  Grande?"  "Most 
assuredly,"  was  his  answer,  "  and  there 
to  remain  until  directed  otherwise  by 
his  government."  The  Mexican  Gene- 
ral thereupon  expressed  his  indignation 
at  seeing;  the  American  flag;  on  the 
bank  of  the  river  on  Mexican  territory. 
"That,"  replied  Worth,  "is  a  matter 
of  taste;  but  notwithstanding,  there  it 
would  remain."  He  also  remarked 
that  General  Mejia,  then  in  chief  com- 
mand at  Matamoras,  might,  "  by  a  very 
simple  operation,  determine  when  and 
where  the  war  should  begin,  but  it 
would  be  for  the  United  States  to  say 
when  and  where  it  should  end."  ^ 

Owing  to  some  unlucky  agitation  of 


'  Thorpe's  "  Our  Army  on  the  Kio  Grande,"  p.  22. 


WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH. 


304 

a  point  of  etiquette,  wliicli  led  to  his 
resignation  of  liis  commission,  General 
"Worth  was  not  present  in  the  battles  of 
Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la  Palma,  but 
their  echoes  speedily  called  him  again 
to  the  field.  He  withdrew  his  resig- 
nation, hastened  to  the  camp  at  Mata- 
moras,  and  in  the  subsequent  advance 
upon  Monterey  was  entrusted  with  one 
of  the  most  important  movements  of 
the  siege.  He  had  the  independent 
command  of  the  operations  on  the  west- 
ern^ side  of  the  town.  General  Taylor 
himself  personally  directing  those  on 
the  east  and  south.  The  success  of  both 
was  indispensable  to  the  successful 
issue  of  the  23d  of  September.  Gene- 
ral "Worth  turned  the  greater  works  of 
the  city  and  cut  off  the  enemy's  retreat 
on  their  rear,  making  a  simultaneous 
advance  into  the  heart  of  the  city  with 
the  storming  parties  from  the  other 
side.  This  advantage  was  not,  however, 
gained  without  hard  fighting.  He  had 
first  to  take  some  formidable  defences 
which  lay  in  his  path.  On  the  21st,  he 
directed  the  storming  of  the  works 
commanding  on  one  side  of  the  valley 
the  approach  to  the  town — the  forts 
named  Federacion  and  Soldado.  They 
were  gallantly  carried  under  his  orders, 
and  the  advantage  of  position  thus 
gained  led  the  next  day  to  the  conquest 
of  the  chief  remaining  work  on  that 
side,  the  fortified  hill  on  which  the 
Bishop's  Palace  was  situated.  The  city 
was  then  open  to  the  invaders.  On  the 
morning  of  the  23d,.  General  Worth, 
hearing  a  heavy  fire  from  the  opposite 
quarter,  concluded  that  a  main  attack 
by  General  Taylor  was  in  progress,  and 
resolved  to  second  it  by  storming  the 


town.  The  details  of  the  operation,  as 
given  in  his  dispatch,  will  show  some- 
thing of  the  courage  and  spirit  with 
which  this  contest,  on  the  third  day  of 
hard  fighting,  was  carried  on.  An 
attack  like  this,  in  open  daylight  in  the 
streets  of  a  city  where  every  house  was 
in  a  measure  a  fortress,  could  hardly  be 
excelled  in  peril.  "Two  columns  of 
attack  were  organized,  to  move  along 
the  two  principal  streets,  leading  from 
our  position  in  the  direction  of  the 
great  plaza,  composed  of  light  troops 
slightly  extended,  vnth  orders  to  mask 
the  men  whenever  practicable;  avoid 
those  points  swept  by  the  enemy's  artil- 
lery ;  to  press  on  to  the  first  plaza,  Ca. 
pella ;  to  get  hold  of  the  ends  of  the 
streets  beyond,  then  enter  the  build- 
ings, and  by  means  of  picks  and  bars 
break  through  the  longitudinal  section 
of  the  walls ;  work  from  house  to  house, 
and,  ascending  to  the  roofs,  to  place 
themselves  upon  the  same  breast-height 
with  the  enemy.  Light  artillery  by 
sections  and  pieces  followed  at  suitable 
intervals,  covered  by  reserves  to  guard 
the  pieces,  and  the  whole  operation 
against  the  probable  enterprises  of  ca- 
valry upon  our  left.  This  was  effec- 
tually done  by  seizing  and  command- 
ing the  head  of  every  cross  street.  The 
streets  were,  at  different  and  well-cho- 
sen points,  barricaded  by  heavy  ma- 
sonry walls,  with  embrasures  for  one 
or  more  guns,  and  in  every  instance 
well  supported  by  cross  batteri  es.  These 
arrangements  of  defence  gave  to  our 
operations  at  this  moment  a  compli- 
cated character,  demanding  much  care 
and  precaution ;  but  the  work  went  on 
steadily,  simultaneously  and  success- 


WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH. 


305 


fully.  About  the  time  our  assault  com- 
menced, tlie  fire  ceased  from  our  force 
in  the  opposite  quarter.  Disengaged 
on  the  one  side,  the  enemy  was  enabled 
to  shift  men  and  guns  to  our  quarter, 
as  was  soon  manifested  by  accumula- 
tion of  fire.  At  dark  we  had  worked 
through  the  walls  and  squares,  and 
reached  to  within  one  block  of  the 
great  plaza,  leaving  a  covered-way  in 
our  rear ;  carried  a  large  building  Avhich 
towered  over  the  principal  defences,  and 
diu'ing  the  night  and  ensuing  morning, 
crowned  its  roof  with  two  howitzers 
and  a  six-pounder.  All  things  were 
ncA\"  prepared  to  renew  the  assault  at 
dawn  of  day,  when  a  flag  was  sent  in, 
asking  a  momentary  suspension  of  fire, 
which  led  to  the  capitulation  upon 
terms  so  honorable  to  our  arms."  ^  At 
the  head  of  the  American  commissioners 
who  negotiated  this  capitulation  stood 
General  Worth,  and  to  him  was  appro- 
priately assigned  the  government  of  the 
town  when  the  enemy  withdrew.  The 
department  at  Washington  again  re- 
sponded to  the  gallant  deeds  of  Briga- 
dier-General Worth,  conferring  upon 
him  by  a  commission  dated  May  4, 1847, 
the  rank  of  major-general  by  brevet, 
from  the  23d  September,  1846,  the  day 
of  the  surrender,  "  for  gallant  and  meri- 
torious conduct  in  the  several  conflicts 
at  Monterey." 

After  these  scenes.  General  Worth 
was  stationed  with  his  division  at  Sal- 
tillo,  prepared  to  take  part  in  the  on- 
ward expedition  of  General  Taylor  into 
the  heart  of  Mexico,  when  the  move- 
ments of  that  line  of  the  army  were 

'  General  "Worth's  Report  to  Major  Bliss,  Monterey, 
September  28,  1846. 


suddenly  arrested  to  favor  the  new 
campaign  under  General  Scott,  directed 
to  the  capital  by  way  of  Vera  Cruz. 
Foremost  among  the  forces  of  the  army 
of  the  Rio  Grande,  diverted  to  the  ap- 
proaching enterprise,  was  the  command 
of  reixulars  under  General  Worth.  He 
made  preparations  for  his  departure  to 
the  new  scene  of  operations  in  Janu- 
ary, and  was  with  General  Scott -at  the 
first  landino;  of  his  forces  at  Vera  Cruz. 
To  him  was  accorded  the  post  of  honor 
in  leading  the  way  in  the  disembarka- 
tion of  the  troops,  and  when  this  bril- 
liant operation  of  the  9th  of  March, 
1847,  was  successfully  accomplished,  to 
Worth's  division  was  assigned  the  im- 
portant position  on  the  southeast  of 
the  city.  His  brigade  had  its  full  share 
of  the  arduous  duties  of  the  invest- 
ment and  siege — duties  formidable 
under  any  circumstances,  but  enhanced 
in  this  case  by  the  inclemency  of  the 
climate  and  the  want  of  the  usual 
facilities  for  land  operations.  The  bat- 
teries, however,  once  in  order,  were 
served  with  terrible  effect,  and  the 
result  was  the  capitulation  on  the 
twenty-seventh  of  the  month,  negoti- 
ated on  the  part  of  the  Americans  by 
a  commission,  of  which  General  Worth 
was  placed  at  the  head.  He  had  per- 
formed the  like  service,  as  we  have 
seen,  at  Monterey,  and  again,  as  at  that 
place,  was  placed  in  command  of  the 
conquered  city. 

He  remained  at  Vera  Cruz,  organi- 
zing his  military  government  of  the 
city  and  castle,  till  the  army  took  its 
departure  toward  the  capital,  when  he 
followed  with  his  division,  coming  up 
in  time  to  take  part  in  the  first  great 


306 


WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH. 


action  at  the  pass  of  Cerro  Gordo.  He 
led  his  l)no:ade  in  the  arduous  service 
on  the  left  of  the  Mexican  line,  sup- 
porting General  Twiggs  in  turning  the 
enemy's  position,  and  when  the  heights 
were  conquered  and  the  foe  discom- 
fited and  ilying,  he  pursued  them  with 
his  division  with  characteristic  en- 
ergy, entering  Jalapa  in  advance  of 
the  army  on  the  day  after  the  battle, 
the  19th  of  April,  and  leading  on  his 
men  to  the  occupation  of  the  town  and 
castle  of  Perote  on  the  twenty-second. 
Still  in  advance,  on  the  15th  of  May, 
General  Worth  entered  Puebla,  There 
the  a  rmy  rested,  the  Home  Government 
credulously  intent  on  j)eace  negotiations 
and  slowly  forwarding  the  means  of 
continuing  the  war.  At  length,  rein- 
forcements having  arrived,  and  the 
troops  having  been  kept  in  an  efficient 
state  of  drill  under  the  eye  of  such 
experienced  masters  of  tactics  as  the 
commander-in-chief,  General  Worth  and 
his  associates,  the  army  began  its  march 
on  the  7th  of  August  for  the  city  of 
Mexico. 

The  disposition  of  the  troops,  it  will 
be  remembered,  in  this  last  great  move- 
ment of  the  army,  was  at  first  on  the 
near  approaches  to  the  city  of  Mexico 
by  the  national  road,  the  advance  post 
being  as  far  advanced  as  Ayotla,  lead- 
ing to  the  eastern  entrance  of  the  city. 
It  was  General  Scott's  grand  strategic 
plan,  however,  not  to  encounter  the 
formidable  defences  on  this  side,  but 
to  turn  them  if  possible  by  a  rounda- 
bout movement,  through  the  rugged, 
but,  as  it  proved,  not  insurmountable 
region,  which  was  less  defended,  to  the 
westward.    In  this  retrograde  move- 


ment round  the  Lake  of  Chalco,  the 
troops  stationed  in  the  rear  came  to 
lead  the  advance,  and  as  General 
Worth's  first  division  was  in  such  a 
position,  it  fell  to  him  to  open  the  way 
by  the  new  road  cut  by  the  army  as  it 
proceeded  to  the  south  and  west  of  the 
lake.  On  the  lYth  of  August,  after  a 
march  of  some  difficulty,  he  occupied 
San  Augustin,  which  was  taken  as  the 
base  of  the  new  operations.  His  divi- 
sion thus  constituted  the  right  wing  of 
the  army,  the  left  being  pushed  toward 
the  enemy's  defences  at  Contreras.  In 
front  of  him  was  the  fortified  jDosition 
of  San  Antonio.  The  heights  of  Con- 
treras were  gallantly  stormed  by  Gene- 
ral Smith  on  the  morning  of  the  twen- 
tieth, and  simultaneously  with  this 
l^rilliant  success,  General  Worth  had 
advanced  from  his  position  before  San 
Augustin,  driven  the  enemy  out  of 
San  Antonio,  and  pushed  on  to  the 
intrenchments  at  Cherubusco,  where 
he  opened  the  engagement.  The  por- 
tion of  the  victory  which  fell  to  his 
division  was  at  the  bridge  or  tUe-de- 
pont^  which  was  taken  by  his  second 
brigade  of  infantry  at  the  point  of  the 
bayonet.  The  capture  of  this  position 
determined  the  day.  It  became  a 
means  of  assault  upon  the  remaining 
defences;  the  enemy,  including  the 
large  reserve  of  Santa  Anna,  was 
overpowered,  and  Mexico  practically 
opened  to  the  invaders.  General 
Worth,  ardent  as  ever  in  pursuit,  fol- 
lowed the  flying  enemy  to  the  very 
gates  of  the  city 

It  was  his  fortune  to  be  employed  in 
the  most  adventurous  operations  of 
this  war  to  its  very  close.    To  him, 


WILLIAM  JENKINS  WORTH. 


807 


when  hostilities,  after  anotlier  brief 
interval  for  ineffectual  peace  negotia- 
tions, had  been  resumed,  was  com- 
mitted the  attack  on  the  works  of 
Molino  del  Rey,  dominated  by  the 
fortress  of  Chapultepec,  one  of  the 
most  perilous  and  obstinate  struggles 
of  the  war.    In  the  subsequent  storm- 
ing of  the  castle,  his  force  acted  as  a 
reserve,  following  in  pursuit  to  the 
city  when  the  work  was  taken.  It 
was  his  design  to  enter  the  city  and 
take  possession  of  its  National  Palace, 
His  path  led  over  a  causeway  beset  by 
fires  of  musketry  from  the  buildings 
along  the  road,  a  battery  in  front  and 
another  in  its  rear,  at  the  gate  of  the 
city.     To  meet  these  perils  he  bor- 
rowed a  lesson  from  the  enemy,  turn- 
ing their  own  works  upon  them.  He 
planted  two  mountain  howitzers  on 
buildings   higher  than   the   rest'  on 
either  side,  thus  sweeping  the  neigh- 
boring houses  and  the  road.  Entering 
the  first  houses,  the  men  worked  their 
way  with  pickaxes  and  crowbars  from 
house  to  house,  burrowino^  throuo-h 
walls  and  ascending  the  roofs,  till,  as 
General  Scott  remarks  in  his  dispatch, 
the    assailants   were    soon    in  an 
equality   of   position    fatal    to  the 
enemy."    By  evening  the   two  bat- 
teries were  carried,  and  the  San  Cosmo 
gate  only  remained  between  General 
Worth  and  the  great  plaza  in  the 
heart  of  the  city.    That  night  of  the 
memorable   13th   of  September,  the 
civil  authorities,  the    military  com- 
mander having  left  the  place,  brought 


overtures  of  surrender  to  General 
Worth.  The  next  day  the  American 
occupation  of  the  city  was  perfected. 

The  war  being  completed.  General 
Worth  was  ordered  to  the  department 
of  Texas.    His  death  occurred  while 
he  was  stationed  on  that  service  at 
San  Antonio,  May  7,  1849.     His  re- 
mains were  brought  to  New  York, 
under  direction  of  the  corporation  of 
the  city,  and  temporarily  interred  in 
the  cemetery  at  Greenwood,  whence 
they  were  removed  on  Evacuation  day, 
November   25th,   1857,  with  public 
honors,  to  the  tomb  prepared  below 
the  imposing  monument  to  his  memory 
which   the  city  of  New  York  had 
caused  to  be  erected  on  one  of  the 
most  conspicuous  sites  in  the  city,  on 
Madison  square,  on  a  gore  of  land  be- 
tween Broadway  and  the  Fifth  Avenue. 
The  ceremonies  were  conducted  with 
unusual  pomp.    A  large  military  pro- 
cession conducted  the  reinains  to  the 
tomb,  the   seventy-first  regiment  of 
state  militia  being  detailed  as  a  guard  of 
honor ;  the  religious  exercises  were  con- 
ducted by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Vinton,  once  a  sol- 
dier under  the  gallant  general  at  whose 
funeral  rites  he  was  now  assisting ;  de- 
dication Masonic  ceremonies  were  per- 
formed, and  an  oration  was  delivered 
by  the  Hon.  Fernando  Wood,  the  mayor 
of  the  city.    The  monument  is  a  strik- 
ing shaft  of  granite,  inscribed  with  a 
long  roll  of  battles,  from  a  solid  base, 
decorated  mth  a  bas-relief  representing 
the  gallant  hero  mounted  on  a  spirited 
steed,  leading  his  men  to  victory 


EDWIN  VOS 


E  SUMNER. 


This  eminent  military  officer,  wliose 
veteran  services  in  successive  campaigns, 
among  tlie  most  arduous  of  tlie  war  of 
the  Rebellion,  especially  entitle  his  me- 
mory to  grateful  recollection  among  his 
countrymen,  was  born  in  Boston,  Mass- 
achusetts, in  1*796.  He  was  educated 
at  his  native  city  and  at  the  neighbor- 
ing academy  at  Milton.  Unlike  most 
of  the  officers  of  the  army,  he  was  not 
a  student  at  West  Point.  He  entered 
the  service  March  3d,  1819,  with  the 
appointment  from  the  commander-in- 
chief,  General  Brown,  as  second-lieuten- 
ant of  the  second  infantry.  He  served 
in  this  resfiment  in  the  Black  Hawk 
"War,  and  in  various  duties,  with  credit 
and  efficiency,  till,  in  the  year  1833,.  he 
was  transferred  to  the  second  dragoons 
with  the  rank  of  cajjtain.  This  brought 
him  into  active  service,  on  the  western 
frontier,  among  the  Indian  tribes — a 
duty  which  was  varied,  in  1838,  by  his 
appointment  to  the  command  of  the 
cavalry  school  of  practice  at  Carlisle 
Barracks,  in  Pennsylvania — an  employ- 
ment for  which  his  skill  and  energy  as 
a  disciplinarian  peculiarly  fitted  him. 
In  1846,  after  twenty-seven  years  of 
military  service,  he  attained  the  rank 
of  major  in  his  regiment  of  dragoons. 

The  breaking  out  of  the  Mexican 
War  provided  him  a  new  field  of  duty, 

80S 


with  an  adequate  opportunity  for  the 
display  of  his  abilities.  He  was  with 
the  army  of  General  Scott  from  its  land- 
ing to  its  arrival  at  the  capital,  and 
was  distinguished  at  every  point  where 
he  had  an  opportunity  for  action.  In 
a  successful  charge  upon  a  body  of 
lancers  at  the  bridge  of  Medelin,  near 
Vera  Cruz,  in  his  command  of  the 
mounted  rifles  in  the  assault  at  Cerro 
Gordo,  where  he  was  wounded,  and  for 
his  gallantry  in  which  affair  he  was 
brevetted  lieutenant-colonel ;  and  espe- 
cially in  his  services  at  El  Molino  del 
Rey,  where,  constantly  under  fire,  he 
maintained  his  position,  and  held  in 
check  a  body  of  five  thousand  Mexican 
lancers,  thus  contributing  materially  to 
the  success  of  the  American  army.  For 
this  new  proof  of  his  merits  he  was 
brevetted  Colonel.  In  July,  1848,  he 
was  commissioned  lieutenant-colonel  of 
the  first  dragoons.  In  1851,  and  for 
the  two  following  years,  he  was  in  com- 
mand of  the  military  department  of 
New  Mexico,  and  for  a  part  of  the 
time  acted  as  civil  governor.  In  1854 
he  visited  Europe  on  official  business, 
to  report  on  certain  improvements  in 
the  cavalry  service,  and  on  his  return 
was,  in  1855,  promoted  to  the  colonelcy 
of  the  fii'st  cavalry  regiment,  on  its  or- 
ganization in  that  year.    This  brought 


.Inhnson  Fry  &  Co.  PuJihsliers  New  York. 


ci^ki  offt^  Iff  tk4>  disrri. 


EDWIN  TOSE  SUMNER. 


309 


liim  again  into  service  on  tlie  frontier. 
Among  other  duties  which  he  dis- 
charged at  this  time  was  the  success- 
ful conduct  of  an  expedition,  in  185 Y, 
against  a  hostile  band  of  Cheyenne 
warriors  in  Kansas  Territory.  The  fol- 
lowing year  he  was  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  Western  Department, 
and  rendered  efficient  service  in  Kansas 
by  his  mingled  energy  and  moderation 
in  the  maintenance  of  order  in  the 
midst  of  the  political  and  social  diffi- 
culties of  the  territory. 

The  outbreak  of  the  Eebellion  found 
him  with  the  rank  of  colonel,  which 
was  soon,  however,  exchanged  for  a 
position  more  worthy  of  his  long  and 
patriotic   service.     On  the  defection 
of  General  Twiggs,  and  the  removal 
of  the  name  of  that  officer  from  the  roll 
of  the  army  in  disgrace.  Colonel  Sum- 
ner was  appointed  to  the  vacant  briga- 
diership.    He  was  now  sent  to  the  De- 
partment of  the  Pacific,  in  California, 
whence,  he  was,  in  the  spring  of  1862, 
called  to  active  service  in  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac,  then  rapidly  completing 
its  organization  under  General  McClel- 
lan.   In  the  campaign  on  the  Peninsula 
he  was  actively  emj)loyed,  from  the 
siege  of  Yorktown  to  the  final  retreat 
to  the  James  Eiver.    When  an  attack 
was  made  by  the  enemy  in  force  upon 
the  Union  Army,  then  within  a  few 
miles  of  Eichmond,  at  Seven  Pines,  : 
General  Sumner,  who  was  stationed  on  ^ 
the  left  bank  of  the  Chickahominy,  by  , 
his  prompt  passage  of  that  river  with  : 
his  corps,  turned  the  fortunes  of  the  ■ 
day  in  the  repulse  of  the  Confederates  ' 
at  Fair  Oaks.    He  was  equally  distin-  ( 


.  guished  by  his  services  in  the  Seven 

•  Days'  Battles  which  succeeded,  and  in 

•  which  he  was  slightly  wounded.  Hav- 
,  ing  received  the  rank  of  major-general 
i  of  volunteers  and  brevet  major-general 

•  in  the  regular  army,  we  find  him  in 
I  command  of  the  second  corps,  in  Mc- 

Clellan's  brief  campaign  in  Maryland 
in  September,  1862,  when,  at  the  hard- 
fought  battle  of  Antietam,  he  was  again 
wounded.  Continuing  with  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  on  its  transfer  to  the  com- 
mand of  General  Burnside,  he  was  with 
that  officer,  in  command  of  the  second 
and  ninth  corps,  forming  the  right 
grand  division  at  the  battle  of  Frede- 
ricksburg. His  division  was  the  first 
to  cross  the  Eappahannock.  Its  at- 
tacks upon  the  enemy's  position  were 
made  with  the  greatest  gallantry,  and 
in  the  disastrous  returns  of  the  day  it 
reported  the  heaviest  losses. 

When   General  Hooker  succeeded 
General  Burnside  in  the  command  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  General 
Sumner  was  relieved  at  his  own  re- 
quest!   He  was  next  appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  Department  of  Mis- 
souri, but  the  very  day  the  order  was 
published  he  was  suddenly  taken  from 
the  world.     He   died   on  the  21st 
March,  1863,  after  a  brief  illness,  at 
Syracuse,  New  York,  where  he  had 
been  for  a  short  time  sojourning.  He 
left  the  reputation  of  a  high-minded, 
energetic  officer.    He  was  distinguished 
as  a  disciplinarian,  while  his  integ- 
rity and  patriotism,  through  fOrty-four 
years  of  public  service,  entitle  him  to  a 
high  place  among  the  defenders  of  his 
country. 


11—39 


MARTIN  VAN  BUREN. 


Maktin  Van  BuEEisr,  the  eightli  Pre- 
sident of  the  United  States,  was  born 
at  Kinderliook,  Columbia  County,  New 
York,  December  5th.,  1782.  His  name 
imports  Ms  Dutcli  descent,  Ms  family 
being  among  tlie  early  settlers  wlio 
came  from  Holland  to  the  New  Nether- 
lands. Abraham  Van  Buren,  the  father 
of  Martin,  is  spoken  of  as  a  farmer  in 
moderate  circumstances,  "  an  upright, 
amiable,  and  intelligent  man,  of  strong 
common  sense,  and  distinguished  for  his 
pacific  disposition."  He  had  little  op- 
portunity to  bestow  upon  his  son  a 
costly  classical  education ;  but  the  boy 
had  the  benefit  of  such  instruction  as 
the  village  school  and  academy  afforded, 
and  its  course  included  "  some  know- 
ledge of  Latin."  His  quickness  and  in- 
telligence marked  him  out  for  the  pro- 
fession of  the  law,  the  study  of  which 
he  commenced  at  the  early  age  of  four- 
teen, in  the  office  of  Mr.  Francis  Sylves- 
ter, a  highly  respectable  practitioner  at 
Kinderhook.  This  apparently  prema- 
ture entrance  in  the  training  of  the  pro- 
fession is  accounted  for  by  a  former 
regulation  of  the  bar,  which  required  a 
seven  years'  course  of  instruction,  except 
in  the  case  of  those  who  had  received  a 
collegiate  degree,  when  an  allowance 
was  made  for  the  usual  four  years  of 

the  undergraduate  course. 
»io 


The  young  Van  Buren  was  early  set 
to  try  cases  in  the  Justices'  Courts, 
and  as  it  is  always  in  America  but  a 
single  step  from  the  law}^er's  ofSce 
to  the  political  arena,  he  found  his 
way  when  he  was  but  eighteen  to  a 
nominating  convention  of  the  Eepubli- 
can  party,  of  a  candidate  for  the  State 
legislature.  These  and  similar  employ- 
ments marked  the  young  man  while  he 
was  yet  a  student,  for  future  activity 
and  employment  in  public  affairs.  This 
tendency  was  increased  by  his  engage- 
ment in  the  last  year  of  his  preparatory 
course  in  the  office  of  Mr.  William  P. 
Van  Ness,  a  distinguished  leader  of  the 
Republican  party  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  and  friend  of  Aaron  Burr.  The 
latter  is  said  to  have  cultivated  the  soci- 
ety of  the  young  student  at  law  from 
Columbia  County,  and  impressed  upon 
him  much  of  his  political  sagacity  in 
the  organization  and  government  of 
party.  In  1803,  in  his  twenty-first  year, 
Mr.  Van  Buren  was  admitted  to  the  bar 
of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  State,  and 
returned  to  Kinderhook  to  begin  prac- 
tice at  the  law.  His  half-brother,  his 
mother's  son  by  a  first  marriage,  Mr. 
James  I.  Van  Alen,  afterward  a  mem- 
ber of  Congress,  was  there  established 
as  a  lawyer,  and  the  two  formed  at 
once  a  business  connection.    This  part- 


MARTIN   VAN  BUREN. 


311 


ner,  avIio  was  somewhat  of  a  politician, 
was  attaclied  to  tlie   Federal  pai-ty, 
whieli  was  the  riilino;  influence  in  the 
county,  and  many  considerations  were 
urged  upon  }'oung  Van  Bureu  to  adopt 
the  prevalent  creed.    He  had,  however, 
chosen  his  path.    "  Firmly  fixed,"  says 
his  biographer,  Mr.  Holland,  "  by  reflec- 
tion and  observation  in  the  political 
faith  of  his  father,  who  was  a  Whio;  in  the 
Eevolution,  an  anti-Federalist  in  1*788, 
and  an  early  supporter  of  Jefferson,  he 
shrunk  not  from  the  severe  tests  which 
were  applied  to  the  strength  and  integ- 
rity of  his  convictions.    Without  pa- 
trcMiage,  comparatively  poor,  a  plebeian 
by  birth,  and  not  furnished  with  the 
advantages  of  a  superior  education,  he 
refused  to  worship  either  at  the  shrine 
of  wealth  or  power,  but  followed  the 
dictates  of  his  native  judgment  and  be- 
nevolent feelings,  and  hesitated  not,  in 
behalf  of  the  cause  which   he  thus 
adopted,  to  encounter  the  utmost  vio- 
lence of  his  political  enemies.  That 
violence  soon  burst  upon  his  head  with 
concentrated  fury.    His  character  was 
traduced,  his  person  ridiculed,  his  prin- 
ciples branded  as  infamous,  his  integ- 
rity questioned,  and  his  abilities  sneered 
at."    This  is  one  side  of  the  picture — 
the  opposition  of  the  Federalists  ;  it  has 
another,  the  partisan  friendship  of  the 
Eepublicans.  The  latter  gave  the  young 
lawyer  and  politician  their  support ; 
he  throve  in  his  profession ;  was  mar- 
ried happily,  in  1806,  to  Miss  Hannah 
Hoes,  a  distant  relative  on  the  mother's 
side;  and  in  1808  had  his  first  party 
reward  from  the  Republican  state  ad- 
ministration of  G-overnor  Tompkins, 
which  he  had  assisted  into  office.  He 


received  the  appointment  of  surrogate 
of  Columbia  County,  which  induced 
him  to  remove  to  the  county  seat  at 
Hudson,  where  he  devoted  himself  assi- 
duously to  the  bar. 

In  politics,  as  we  have  seen,  Mr.  Van 
Buren  was  an  active  participant  from 
the  start  as  an  ardent  su2:)porter  of  the 
J effersonian  politics  of  the  day.  In  the 
State  divisions  he  attached  himself  to 
the  fortunes  of  Governor  Tompkins, 
and  was  prominent  in  sustaining  his 
anti-bank  polic}^  It  was  on  the  latter 
issue,  in  opposition  to  Edward  P.  Liv- 
ingston, a  bank-democrat  supported  by 
the  Federalists,  that  Mr.  Van  Buren  was 
chosen  a  State  senator  from  the  coun- 
ties comprising  the  Middle  District.  It 
was  a  closely  contested  election,  the 
successful  candidate  having  a  majority 
of  only  about  two  hundred  in  an  aggre- 
gate vote  of  twenty  thousand. 

It  was  the  season  of  a  new  Presi- 
dential election,  the  first  term  of  Mr. 
Madison  being  about  to  exj)ire.    As  it 
was  the  custom  at  that  time  to  nomi- 
nate the  State  electors  by  a  caucus  of 
the  political  parties  in  the  legislature, 
Mr.  Van  Buren  was,  of  course,  called 
upon  to  participate  in  their  decision. 
The  Republican  members  had  already, 
in  their  spring  session,  nominated  De 
Witt  Clinton  for  that  high  office,  a 
nomination  to  which  Mr,  Van  Buren 
now  gave  his  support.    This  brought 
him  in  a  quasi  union  with  the  Federal- 
ists, who  gave  their  support  to  Mr.  Clin- 
ton, and  has  led  his  biographers  to 
take  particular  pains  to  exhibit  his  ad- 
herence to  the  war  policy  of  the  admin- 
istration at  Washington,  toward  which, 
at  the  outset  at  least,  Mr,  Clinton  had 


312 


MARTIN  VAN  BTJREN. 


been  opposed.    But  whatever  doubts 
may  have  been  tlirown  over  liis  views 
by  this  accidental  party  relation,  seem- 
ing to  compromise  his  thorough-going 
republicanism,  his  adherence  to  war 
measures  was  made  explicit  enough  in 
the  Address  which  he  prepared  as  chair- 
man of  the  committee  nominating  Go- 
vernor Tompkins  for  reelection  in  1813, 
and  by  his  subsequent  advocacy  in  the 
legislature  of  the  most  stringent  war 
measures,  particularly  in  an  act  to  en- 
courage privateering,  and  another,  which 
was  known  as  the  "  classification  law," 
of  the  nature  of  a  conscription,  author- 
izing the  governor  to  place  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  President  twelve  thousand 
men  of  the  militia — a  measure  which, 
though  adopted,  peace  intervening,  was 
not  required  to  be  put  in  practice.  The 
acts  just  alluded  to  were  violently  op- 
posed by  the  Federalists,  and  submit- 
ted to  a  severe  scrutiny  after  their  pas- 
sage, in  the  Council  of  Revision,  a  body 
which  then  sat  as  an  integral  part  of  the 
legislature  in  confirming  its  laws.  Chan- 
cellor Kent  there  delivered  an  opinion 
against  them.    It  was  published,  and 
replied   to  by  Samuel  Young,  then 
Speaker  of  the  Assembly,  in  several 
newspaper  articles  signed  '■'•Juris  Con- 
sultus^^''  which  were  answered  by  the 
chancellor  under  the  signature  '■'■Amicus 
CwricBr    Upon  this  Mr.  Van  Buren  met 
the  latter,  directing  his  attention  espe- 
cially to  the  assault  upon  the  morality 
of  the  privateering  law,  in  a  series  of  ar- 
ticles signed  '■^Amicus  Jwris  Consul- 

After  peace  was  concluded,  in  the 
words  of  his  eulogist,  Colonel  Benton, 
"  to  complete  his  course  in  support  of 


the  war,  and  to  crown  his  meritorious 
labors  to  bring  it  to  a  happy  conclu- 
sion, it  became  Mr.  Van  Buren's  fortune 
to  draw  up  the  vote  of  thanks  of  the 
greatest  State  of  the  Union,  to  the  great- 
est general  which  the  war  had  produced 
— '  the  thanks  of  the  New  York  legisla- 
ture to  Major-General  Jackson,  his  gal- 
lant ofiicers  and  troops,  for  their  won- 
derful and  heroic  victory,  in  defence  of 
the  grand  emporium  of  the  West.' " 

The  ability  displayed  by  Mr.  Van 
Buren  in  the  Senate  indicated  him  as 
a  worthy  incumbent  of  the  office  of 
attorney-general  of  the  State,  an  ap- 
pointment which  he  received  in  1815. 
He  was  also  in  this  year  created  a  Re- 
gent of  the  University,  and  in  the  fol 
lowing  was  reelected  for  another  term 
of  four  years  to  the  Senate.  He  then 
took  up  his  residence  at  Albany,  where 
he  continued  his  practice  at  the  bar, 
which  had  steadily  increased,  and 
formed  a  partnership  with  his  pupil, 
the  late  Benjamin  F.  Butler,  to  whom, 
as  the  political  relations  of  Mr.  Van 
Buren  became  more  engrossing,  the  bu- 
siness of  the  office  was  gradually  relin- 
quished. 

It  is  not  necessary  here  to  attempt  to 
follow  Mr.  Van  Buren  through  the  in- 
tricate windings  of  New  York  political 
history.  It  is  a  story  of  cross  purposes, 
which  can  be  fully  understood  only  by 
a  minute  study  of  the  history  of  the 
times,  if,  indeed,  we  are  as  yet  supplied 
with  the  full  materials  for  its  compre- 
hension. It  may  be  sufficient  to  say 
that  much  in  those  days,  by  a  politician 
bent  upon  advancement,  had  to  be  ac- 
complished by  management  and  in- 
trigue.   The  ship  was  to  be  assisted  in 


MARTIN  VAN  BTJREN. 


313 


its  course  by  side  Tvdnds  and  under  cur- 
rents.   Thus  we  find  Mr.  Van  Buren 
^yitll  his  party  at  one  time,  by  some  pro- 
cess of  fusion  of  Republicans  and  Fed- 
eralists, supporting  De  Witt  Clinton; 
at  another,  leading  in  his  overthrow.  It 
became  a  question  of  party  existence. 
What  is  called  the  All)any  Regency,  a 
body  of  practised  politicians  who  com- 
bined  their  resources  in   office  and 
through  the  press  in  establishing  and 
cementing  democratic  authority,  was 
called  into  being.     Clinton  had  the 
prestige  of  a  great  name  in  the  State, 
and  the  influence  of  commanding  ta- 
lents, sustained  by  the  most  indomita- 
ble usefulness  and  industry  ;  he  was  the 
great  supporter  of  the  Canal  policy, 
Avhicli  was  at  length  triumphantly  car- 
ried througli,  but  which  had,  mean- 
while, to  bear  the  brunt  of  a  ruthless 
opposition ;  in  his  personal  bearing  he 
was  charged  mth  haughtiness,  whicli 
was,  probably,  nothing  more  than  the 
dignity  and  reserve  of  a  superior  na- 
ture, exclusively  engrossed  in  honor- 
able ends,  requiring  the  devotion  of  the 
whole  man.  At  any  rate,  a  party  strug- 
gle ensued  between  the  friends  of  the 
governor  and  of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  whicli 
was  conducted  with,  great  acrimony. 
One  of  its  results  was  the  removal  of 
the  latter  from  his  office  of  attorney- 
general,  by  that  political  machine  of  the 
old  constitution,  the  Council  of  Ap- 
pointment, in  1819,  at  a  moment  when 
he  had  become  obnoxious  to  the  Clin- 
tonians  by  his  efforts  to  oppose  the  re- 
election of  tlieir  chieftain.    The  decapi- 
tation caused  some  stir  at  the  time, 
whicb  is  commemorated  in  one  of  tlie 
poetical  effusions  of  the  Croakers,  with. 


a  prophetic  hint  of  the  victim's  higher 
destiny. 

'Tis  vain  to  win  a  great  man's  name, 

Without  some  proof  of  having  been  one, 
And  killing's,  a  sure  path  to  fame. 

Vide  Jack  Ketch  and  Mr.  Clinton ! 
Our  Council  well  this  path  have  trod, 

Honor's  immortal  wreath  securing, 
They've  dipped  their  hatchets  in  the  blood, 

The  patriot  blood  of  Mat.  Van  Buren. 

He  bears,  as  every  hero  ought. 

The  mandate  of  the  powers  that  rule, 
He's  higher  game  in  view,  'tis  thought. 

All  in  good  time  ;  (the  man 's  no  fool), 
With  him,  some  dozens  prostrate  fall, 

Ko  friend  to  mourn,  nor  foe  to  flout  them, 
They  die  unsung,  unwept  by  all. 

For  no  one  cares  a  sous  about  them. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  demo- 
crats, including  Mr.  Van  Buren,  engaged 
in  one  of  those  party  compromise  ma- 
noeuvres to  which  we  have  alluded,  in 
the  election  of  Mr.  Rufus  King,  an  old 
federalist,  to  th.e  Senate.  In  support 
of  this  measure,  Mr.  Van  Buren  wrote 
and  published,  in  conjunction  with  the 
late  Governor  Marcy,  a  pamphlet  enti- 
tled "  Considerations  in  favor  of  the 
appointment  of  Rufus  King  to  the  Se- 
nate of  the  United  States."  In  the 
great  question  of  the  day,  in  whicb  Mr. 
King  bore  so  prominent  a  part,  the 
■admission  of  Missouri  into  the  Union, 
Mr.  Van  Buren  concurred  with  the 
Senate  in  its  instructions  to  the  State 
representatives  at  Wasliington,  to  insist 
upon  the  prohibition  of  slavery.  His 
service  in  this  body  ended  with  the  ex- 
piration of  his  second  term,  in  1820, 
when  lie  was  not  a  candidate  for  reelec- 
tion. In  February  of  the  following 
year  lie  was  chosen  by  the  legislature 
Senator  of  tlie  United  States.  In  the 
same  year  he  was  also  elected  a  mem- 


314 


MARTIN  VAN  BTJREN. 


ber  of  tlie  convention  to  revise  the  con- 
stitution of  the  State,  from  Otsego 
County,  liis  party  not  being  strong 
enough  to  return  him  from  his  own.  dis- 
trict. When  this  important  body  met 
he  took  an  active  part  in  its  delibera- 
tions, advocating  generally  a  medium 
course  of  reform.  On  one  of  the  pro- 
minent subjects  under  discussion,  the 
extension  of  the  right  of  suffrage,  he 
was  in  favor  of  a  relaxation  of  the  old 
system,  but  stopped  short  of  universal 
suffrage.  That  was  a  measure  of  an 
after  day.  He  was  opposed  to  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  Council  of  Re  vision,  and 
in  favor  of  the  substitute  for  its  check 
upon  hasty  legislation,  of  the  veto 
power  of  the  governor.  He  favored  the 
direct  choice  of  officers  of  government 
by  the  people,  with  some  reservations, 
however,  which,  adopted  at  the  time, 
have  been  subsequently  removed.  His 
course  was  thus  politic,  and,  in  a  mea- 
sure, conservative. 

The  convention  concluded  its  sit- 
tings in  time  for  Mr.  Van  Buren  to 
take  his  seat,  at  the  opening  of  the  win- 
ter session  of  the  Senate  at  Washing- 
ton, by  the  side  of  his  colleague  Rufus 
King.  His  reputation  being  now  well 
established,  he  was  at  once  charged 
with  important  duties  as  a  member  of 
the  committees  of  finance  and  the  judi- 
ciary. One  of  the  topics  which  early 
engaged  his  attention  was  the  abolition 
of  imprisonment  for  debt  in  the  process 
of  the  United  States  Courts,  unless  in 
certain  cases  of  fraud — an  amelioration 
of  the  statutes  of  the  olden  time,  which 
he  had  already  advocated  in  the  State 
jurisprudence  at  Albany.  He  also  pro- 
posed amendments  to  the  judiciary  sys- 


tem, and  was  a  prominent  speaker  in 
the  discussion  of  a  bill  establishing  a 
uniform  system  of  bankruptcy. 

On  the  accession  of  Mr.  Adams  in 
1825,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  who  had  already 
attached  himself  to  the  fortunes  of 
Jackson,  was  enrolled  in  the  number 
of  the  President's  opponents.  Among 
other  measures  of  the  Administration, 
the  proposed  Panama  mission  drew 
forth  his  determined  opposition. 

In  1827  he  was  reelected  to  the 
Senate  by  a  decisive  vote  of  the  New 
York  State  Legislature,  but  he  had 
little  more  than  entered  on  the  new 
term,  when  he  was  chosen,  on  the  death 
of  De  Witt  Clinton,  who  expired  sud- 
denly while  in  office.  Governor  of  New 
York.  He  consequently  resigned  his 
seat  in  the  Senate  and  began  his  new 
course  of  duties  in  January,  1829. 

Mr.  Van  Buren  had  not  been  long  at 
Albany,  in  his  seat  as  governor,  when, 
on  the  entrance  of  Jackson  upon  the 
Presidency  in  1829,  he  was  called  to 
the  high  ofi&ce,  directly,  according  to 
the  old  precedents  in  the  line  of  suc- 
cession, of  Secretary  of  State.  He  held 
this  for  two  years,  when  political  hos- 
tilities having  grown  rife  in  the  cabinet, 
a  dissolution  seemed  inevitable,  and, 
"  convinced  that  the  success  of  the  ad- 
ministration, and  his  own  prospects  for 
the  future,  demanded  his  retirement 
from  a  position  so  unpleasant,  he  led 
the  way  by  a  voluntary  resignation  of 
the  office  which  he  held."  ^ 

Mr.  Van  Buren  retired  during  the 
recess  of  Congress  in  April,  1831,  and 
was  immediately   appointed   by  the 


'  Jenkins'  Van  Buren.   Governors  of  New  York,  p.  444. 


MARTIN   VAN  BUREN. 


315 


President  INIiuister  Pleuipotentiaiy  to 
Great  Britain.  He  accepted  the  posi- 
tion, tlie  duties  of  which  were  not  alto- 
p-etlier  disconnected  from  those  of  his 
hite  office,  so  iar  as  Ihey  rehited  to  the 
settlement  of  open  questions  with  Eng- 
hind,  which  he  had  ah'eady  had  in  hand. 
,  He  reached  London  in  September,  and 
was  received  with  every  attention  by 
the  government.  Before,  however,  he 
was  well  seated,  his  appointment,  on 
being  submitted  to  the  Senate,  was  re- 
jected by  that  body,  on  the  ostensible 
ground  of  certain  instructions,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  trade  with  the  West  Indies, 
which  he  had  forwarded,  when  Secre- 
tary of  State,  to  the  previous  minister, 
Mr.  McLane.  The  political  constitu- 
tion of  the  Senate,  which  was  now  ar- 
raying its  forces,  may  be  presumed  to 
have  had  more  to  do  with  the -rejection, 
which  was  decided  against  the  appoint- 
ment by  the  casting  vote  of  the  Vice- 
President,  Mr,  Calhoun. 

That  act,  it  was  often  said,  made  Mr. 
Van  Buren  President.  He  was  the 
victim  of  an  opposition  vote,  and  was 
ruthlessly  thrown  out  from  an  honor- 
able office  which  he  was  well  qualified 
to  discharge.  This,  at  least,  was  the 
view  of  the  Democratic  party,  and  the 
Mends  of  the  President,  who  continued 
to  give  him  his  support.  Consequently 
when  Greneral  Jackson  was  nominated 
for  reelection,  it  was  with  Martin  Van 
Buren  on  the  ticket  for  Vice-President. 
Both  were  chosen  by  a  decided  major- 
ity, the  vote  being  the  same,  with  the 
exception  of  that  of  Pennsylvania, 
which,  in  consequence  of  Mr.  Van  Bu- 
ren's  anti-protectionist  views,  was  with- 
held from  hiiiL 


As  the  presiding  officer  of  the  Sen- 
ate, during  the  stormy  period  of  Jack- 
sou's  second  term,  the  new  Vice-Presi- 
dent, by  his  parliamentary  experience, 
unwearied  attention,  and  that  polished 
courtesy  which  always  characterized 
his  bearing,  won  golden  o2:)inions  from 
all  parties.  He  was  the  devoted  sup- 
porter of  the  measures  of  the  Presi- 
dent in  this  active  period,  which  wit- 
nessed the  overthrow  of  the  United 
States  Bank,  the  decided  stand  taken 
with  regard  to  nullification  in  South 
Carolina,  and  the  indemnity  negotia- 
tion with  Louis  Philippe.  The  reign 
of  Jacksonism,  as  it  was  sometimes 
called,  became  fully  established,  and 
Mr.  Van  Buren  succeeded  to  the  re- 
tiring chieftain  as  his  rightful  political 
heir.  He  was  nominated  to  the  Presi- 
dency at  Baltimore,  in  May,  1835,  and 
in  the  ensuing  election  of  the  following 
year  was  chosen  by  a  majority  of  forty- 
six  votes  over  all  other  candidates. 

His  inauguration,  on  the  4th  of 
March,  183T,  was  duly  celebrated  ac- 
cording to  custom,  by  the  delivery  of 
an  address,  and  administration  of  the 
oath  at  the  portico  of  the  Capitol.  The 
day  was  a  very  fine  one,  as  the  new 
President  was  driven  to  the  spot,  seated 
alongside  of  the  retiring  incumbent,  in 
a  phaeton  made  of  the  wood  of  the 
frigate  Constitution,  which  had  been 
presented  to  General  Jackson  by  the 
democracy  of  New  York.  The  address 
was  chiefly  a  eulogy  on  the  success  of 
the  Government  in  its  triumph  over  all 
previous  obstacles.  The  agitation  of 
the  slavery  question  was  pointedly  al- 
luded to  and  deprecated  in  earnest 
terms.     The    speaker    renewed  his 


MARTIN  VAN  BUREN. 


31 G 

pledge  as  "tlie  inflexible  and  uncom- 
promising opponent  of  every  attempt 
on  tlie  part  of  Congress  to  abolish 
slavery  in  tlie  District  of  Columbia, 
against  tlie  wishes  of  tlie  slavebolding 
States ;  and  also  his  determination, 
equally  decided,  to  resist  the  slightest 
interference  with  it  in  the  States  where 
it  exists." 

In  the  selection  of  his  Cabinet,  Mr, 
Van  Buren  retained  those  who  held 
office  under  the  late  administration,  in- 
cluding John  Forsyth,  of  Georgia,  in 
the  State  Department ;  Levi  Woodbury, 
of  New  Hampshire,  in  the  Treasury; 
Amos  Kendall  in  the  Post  Office,  and 
Benjamin  F.  Butler  as  Attorney-Gene- 
ral. Mr.  Poinsett,  of  South  Carolina, 
was  appointed  in  the  War  Department 
to  succeed  General  Cass,  who  proceeded 
as  Minister  to  France.  The  bureau  of 
administration  thus  organized,  the  gov- 
ernment with  an  established,  recog- 
nized policy,  appeared  to  have  an  easy 
course  before  it.  There  was,  however, 
a  cloud  rising  which  soon  burst  upon 
the  country.  The  difficulty  arose  from 
the  banks  out  of  the  plethora  of 
the  public  treasury.  A  large  surplus 
had  accumulated  in  the  State  banks, 
which  were  the  substitutes  of  the 
former  national  institution,  which  was 
now  to  be  divided  among  the  States. 
Credit  had  been  stimulated,  paper 
money  had  been  expanded,  and  the 
result  was  now  the  contraction,  memo- 
rable in  our  commercial  annals,  of  the 
year  183Y.  The  banks  suspended  spe- 
cie payments,  millions  of  value  were 
depreciated,  and  the  whole  system  of 
trade  and  industry  seemed  in  utter 
wreck  and  ruin.    An  extra  session  of 


Congress  was  called  in  September,  to 
take  into  consideration  the  state  of 
affairs  in  relation  to  the  public  credit. 
A  message  from  the  President  proposed 
the  remedy  which,  known  under  the 
name  of  the  Sub-Treasury,  has  passed 
into  an  established  feature  of  the  gov- 
ernment unquestioned  in  party  con- 
flicts. The  Independent  Treasury  Bill, 
which  thus  separated  the  financial  af- 
fairs of  the  State  from  all  banks  what- 
soever, making  the  care  of  the  gold  and 
silver  paid  for  duties,  a  simple  matter 
of  safe  keeping,  under  the  charge  of 
certain  officers,  met  at  the  outset  with 
considerable  opposition.  It  passed  the 
Senate  in  this  extra  session  but  was  de- 
feated in  the  House  of  Kepresentatives. 
The  same  fate  attended  it  in  the  next 
regular  session.  It  did  not  become  a 
law  till  the  last  year  of  Mr.  Van 
Buren's  Presidential  term,  in  1840.  It 
was  undoubtedly  the  most  important 
event  of  his  administration. 

The  foreign  policy  of  the  country 
was  conducted  mth  ability  during  this 
period.  Two  questions  of  some  im- 
portance arose  in  these  connections,  one 
in  relation  to  Texas,  the  other  regard- 
ing the  management  of  the  frontier 
difficulties  with  Great  Britain,  In 
respect  to  the  former,  which  came  up  on 
the  proposition  for  the  annexation  of 
Texas  to  the  Union,  the  President  was 
opposed  to  the  measure.  He  thought 
the  independence  of  that  State  had  not 
been  fully  recognized  by  the  United 
States,  and  that  to  enter  upon  annex- 
ation would  be,  as  the  event  proved,  to 
encounter  hostilities  with  Mexico,  with 
which  country  he  desired  to  maintain 
I  peace.  In  the  Maine  Boundary  Question 


MARTIN  VAN  BUREN. 


317 


and  the  Niairara  frontier  disturbances 
he  pursued  a  firm  and  equable  policy, 
protecting'  the  rights  of  the  country 
and  checking  the  lawless  spirit  which 
liad  been  aroused  within  our  own  bor- 
ders. 

In  the  election  of  1840  Mr.  Van 
Buren  was  ao;ain  the  candidate  of  his 
party,  in  a  canvass  in  which  he  suffered 
an  overwhelming  defeat.  The  country, 
depressed  by  the  financial  crisis  from 
wliich  it  had  not  yet  recovered,  was 
l)ent  upon  political  change.  General 
Harrison,  a  popular  hero  of  the  "West 
was  nominated  by  the  Whigs  and  borne 
into  ofiice  by  a  triumphant  vote.  He 
received  two  hundred  and  thirty-four 
electoral  votes  against  the  sixty  of  Pre- 
sident Van  Buren.  The  administration 
of  the  latter  being  thus  ended,  he  re- 
tired from  Washington  on  the  accession 
of  the  new  President,  to  his  old  home 
at  Kinderhook,  where  he  had  purchased 
an  estate  which  had  belono-ed  to  the  late 
Judge  Van  Ness,  to  which  he  gave  the 
name  Linden  wold.  In  1844  his  friends 
again  brought  him  forward  as  a  candi- 
date for  the  Presidency,  and  an  earnest 
efifort  was  made  for  his  nomination  in  the 
national  convention  of  his  party  at  Bal- 
timore. It  might  have  been  obtained 
for  him  but  for  a  letter  which  he  wrote 
in  favor  of  deferring  the  annexation  of 
Texas  till  the  consent  of  Mexico  should 
be  obtained.  Something  more  decided 
was  required  by  the  convention  on  this 
point,  and  the  nomination  was  given  to 
Mr.  Polk,  who  was  less  scrupulous  in 
regard  to  the  measure.  Mr.  Van  Buren, 
true  to  the  party  organization,  which 
he  had  done  so  much  to  aid  in  previous 
days,  gave  an  influential  support  to  the 
II.— 40 


democratic  candidate,  and  on  his  elec- 
tion, was  tendered  the  mission  to  Eng- 
land, which  he  declined.  Four  years 
now  elapsed,  and  1848  brought  I'ound 
again  the  recurring  struggle  for  the 
Presidency.  A  division  had  arisen  in 
the  ranks  of  the  democracy  in  the  State 
of  New  York,  involving  the  question 
of  the  introduction  of  slavery  into  the 
new  territory  acquired  from  Mexico. 
Two  delegations  were  sent  from  rival 
factions  to  the  nominating  convention 
of  the  party  at  Baltimore.  In  the  poli- 
tical nomenclature  of  the  day  one  bore 
the  name  of  Hunkers,  the  other  of  Barn- 
burners. The  latter,  which  represented 
the  interests  of  Mr.  Van  Buren,  was  in 
favor  of  freedom  in  the  territories.  Re- 
solutions were  passed  in  the  conven- 
tion admitting  both  delegations,  upon 
which  the  Barnburners  retired.  The 
faction  of  the  latter  then  held  a  con- 
vention of  their  own  at  Utica,  at  which 
Mr.  Van  Buren  was  nominated  as  an 
independent  democratic  candidate  of 
tlie  Free  Soil  party,  as  it  began  to  be 
called.  General  Cass  was  the  regular 
nominee  at  Baltimore,  and  General  Tay- 
lor of  the  Whigs.  The  result  of  the 
election  was  a  Free  Soil  popular  vote  for 
Van  Buren,  chiefly  drawn  from  New 
York,  which  gave  him  over  120,000; 
Massachusetts,  38,058 ;  Ohio,  over 
35,000;  Illinois,  nearly  16,000;  Penn- 
sylvania, about  11,000 — an  aggregate 
of  291,378.  General  Cass  received 
1,233,795  votes  ;  General  Taylor's  votes 
exceeded  this  by  138,447.  Mr.  Van 
Buren  did  not  receive  the  electoral  vote 
of  a  single  State. 

Mr.  Van  Buren,  "  a  passive  instru- 
ment in  the  hands  of  his  old  and  de- 


318 


MARTIN  YAN  BUREN. 


voted  friends,"  appears  to  have  been 
little  concerned  at  tlie  result.  It  was 
not  his  liumor  or  his  character.  He 
had  seen  enough  of  party  not  to  be 
greatly  aifected  by  its  decisions,  and  he 
had,  moreover,  reached  an  age  of  honor- 
able, well-earned  repose,  which  his 
habits  of  study  and  reflection,  a  certain 
philosophic  temper,  and  his  happy 
family  relations  disposed  him  to  enjoy. 

The  retirement  of  Mr.  Van  Buren's 
latter  days  was  varied  by  a  visit  to 
Europe,  undertaken  for  his  health  in 
1853.  There  he  remained  for  more 
than  a  year,  visiting  various  countries 
and  enjoying  such  attention  as  befitted 
the  elevated  career  in  which  he  had 
moved.  On  his  return  his  time  was 
chiefly  passed  at  his  estate  of  Linden- 
wold,  among  the  scenes  of  his  child- 
hood, in  Columbia  County,  varied  by 
an  occasional  visit  to  New  York  An 
asthmatic  affection  was  gradually  grow- 
ing upon  him,  which  increased  in  inten- 
sity, and  finally  brought  him  to  his  end. 
His  death  occurred  on  the  24th  of  July, 
1862,  in  the  midst  of  the  great  political 
and  social  revolution,  which  in  the 
storm  of  civil  war  was  shaking  the 
land  to  its  foundations.  In  the  public 
honors  which  were  paid  to  his  memory 
the  association  was  not  forgotten.  Pre- 
sident Lincoln,  in  a  national  tribute  of 
respect,  announced  his  death  to  the 
country.  "This  event,"  was  the  lan- 
guage of  his  Proclamation,  "  will  occa- 
sion mourning  in  the  nation  for  the  loss 
of  a  citizen  and  a  public  servant  whose 
memory  will  be  gratefully  cherished. 
Althousfh  it  has  occurred  at  a  time 
when  his  country  is  afflicted  with  divi- 
sion and  civil  war,  the  grief  of  his  patri- 


otic friends  will  measurably  be  assuaged 
by  the  consciousness  that,  while  suffer- 
ing with  disease,  and  seeing  his  end 
approaching,  his  prayers  were  for  the 
restoration  of  the  authority  of  the 
Government  of  which  he  had  been  the 
head,  and  for  peace  and  good-will 
among  his  fellow-citizens.  As  a  mark 
of  respect  for  his  memory,  it  is  ordered 
that  the  Executive  Mansion  and  the 
several  Executive  Departments,  except- 
ing those  of  the  War  and  Navy,  be  im- 
mediately placed  in  mourning,  and  all 
business  be  suspended  during  to-mor- 
row. It  is  further  ordered  that  the 
War  and  Navy  Departments  cause  suit- 
able military  and  naval  honors  to  be 
paid  on  this  occasion  to  the  memory  of 
the  illustrious  dead."  The  courts  of 
New  York  paid  their  eulogies  to  the 
man  and  his  active  influential  life. 

The  funeral  services  were  performed 
at  the  Dutch  Church,  in  the  village  of 
Kinderhook,  in  the  presence  of  a  large 
gathering  of  friends  and  neighbors, 
when  a  discoui'se  befitting  the  occa- 
sion was  delivered  by  a  friend  of  the 
deceased,  the  Rev.  Dr.  J.  Eomeyn  Berry, 
in  which  a  stirring  incentive  to  patriot- 
ism, rendered  doubly  impressive  by  the 
national  crisis,  was  a  prominent  topic. 

Mr.  Van  Buren  had  been  long  a 
widower,  his  wife  having  died  in  1818, 
twelve  years  after  their  marriage,  leav- 
ing him  a  family  of  four  sons,  Abraham, 
John,  Martin,  and  Smith  Thompson. 
Mr.  John  Van  Buren  is  well  knovm  as 
an  eminent  legal  practitioner  in  New 
York,  and  more  widely  of  late  by  his 
active  participation  in  the  political 
movements  of  the  day. 

The  more  prominent  characteristics 


MARTIN  VAN  BUEEN. 


319 


of  Mr,  Van  Biiren  have  been  delicately 
touched  by  a  son  of  one  of  his  most 
devoted  friends,  Mr,  William  Allen  But- 
ler, in  an  interesting  obituary  sketch 
of  the  "  Lawyer,  Statesman  and  Man." 
"  In  his  personal  traits,"  says  he,  "  Mr. 
Van  Buren  was  marked  by  a  rare  indi- 
viduality. He  was  a  gentleman,  and 
he  cultivated  the  society  of  gentlemen. 
He  never  had  any  associates  who  were 
vulgar  or  vicious.  He  affected  the 
companionship  of  men  of  letters, 
though  I  think  his  conclusion  was 
that  they  are  apt  to  make  poor  poli- 
ticians and  not  the  best  of  friends. 
Where  he  acquired  that  peculiar  neat- 
ness and  polish  of  manners  which  he 
wore  so  lightly,  and  which  served 
every  turn  of  domestic,  social,  and 
public  intercourse,  I  do  not  know.  It 
could  hardly  be  called  natural,  al- 
though it  seemed  so  natural  in  him. 
It  was  not  put  on,  for  it  never  was  put 
off.  As  you  saw  him  once  you  saw 
him  always — always  punctilious,  al- 
ways polite,  always  cheerful,  always 
self-possessed.  It  seemed  to  any  one 
who  studied  this  phase  of  his  character 
as  if,  in  some  early  moment  of  destiny, 
his  whole  nature  had  been  bathed  in  a 
cool,  clear  and  unruffled  depth,  from 
which  it  drew  this  life-long  serenity 
and  self-control.    It  was  another  of 


the  charges  against  him  that  he  was 
no  Democrat.  He  dressed  too  well,  he 
lived  too  well,  the  company  he  kept 
was  too  good,  his  tastes  were  too  re- 
fined, his  tone  was  too  elegant.  So  far 
as  democracy  is  supposed  to  have  an 
elective  affinity  for  dirt,  this  was  all 
true ;  he  was  no  Democrat  in  taste  or 
feeling,  and  he  never  pretended  to 
be,  .  .  .  As  to  the  elements  of  the 
widest  popularity,  they  were  not  in 
him.  He  never  inspired  enthusiasm, 
as  Jackson  did,  or  Henry  Clay.  The 
masses  accepted  him  as  a  leader,  but 
they  never  worshipped  him  as  a 
hero,  .  .  .  Mr,  Van  Buren  has 
left  memoirs,  partly  finished.  If  his 
reminiscences  can  be  given  to  the 
world  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  giving 
them  to  his  friends,  in  all  the  fresh- 
ness of  familiar  intercourse,  they  will  be 
most  attractive.  There  was  a  charm 
about  his  conversation  when  it  turned 
on  the  incidents  of  his  personal  experi- 
ence which  could  hardly  be  transferred 
to  the  printed  page,  so  much  of  its 
interest  depended  on  manner  and  ex- 
pression. Mr.  Van  Buren  had  no  wit, 
but  he  had  humor,  and  a  keen  sense 
for  the  humorous,  and  he  could  repro- 
duce with  rare  fidelity  whatever  in  the- 
actions  or  the  character  of  men  he  had 
thought  worth  remembering." 


SALMON    PORTLAND  CHASE. 


This  eminent  statesman  was  born  in 
Cornish,  New  Hampshire,  January  13, 
1808.  He  received  some  early  school 
instruction  at  Keene,  in  the  same  state, 
where  his  father  had  removed;  and, 
after  the  death  of  that  parent,  the  boy, 
at  the  age  of  twelve,  went  to  Worth- 
ington,  Ohio,  where  he  was  assisted  in 
the  completion  of  his  education  by  his 
uncle,  Philander  Chase,  the  eminent 
Episcopal  Bishop  of  the  State.  He 
entered  the  Cincinnati  College,  of  which 
Bishop  Chase  was  President,  and  after 
pursuing  its  studies  in  the  Sophomore 
Class,  returned  to  his  home  at  his 
mother's  house  in  New  Hampshire, 
where  he  was  admitted  to  the  Junior 
Class  at  Dartmouth,  from  which  Col- 
lege he  graduated  in  1826.  We  next 
find  him  at  the  national  capital,  in 
charge  of  a  classical  school,  supported 
by  some  of  the  eminent  public  men  of 
the  day,  whose  sons  were  placed  under 
his  tuition.  Among  these  were  Henry 
Clay  and  William  Wirt.  With  the 
latter,  then  in  the  height  of  his  profes- 
sional fame,  Mr.  Chase,  in  his  hours  of 
leisure,  studied  law,  and  relinquishing 
his  school,  was  in  1829  admitted  to 
practice  in  the  District  of  Columbia. 
In  the  following  year  he  returned  to 
Cincinnati,  and  became  earnestly  en- 
gaged in  his  profession.    A  proof  of 

820 


his  zeal  and  industry  in  those  early 
years  of  patient  waiting  and  devotion, 
of  which  the  law  is  usually  exacting,  is 
to  be  found  in  a  valuable  annotated 
edition  which  he  prepared  of  the 
Statutes  of  Ohio.  His  practice  now 
increased,  and  in  a  few  years  he  began 
to  be  prominently  known  to  the  people 
of  the  United  States  by  his  advocacy 
before  the  Supreme  Court  of  what  may 
be  called  the  principles  of  freedom  in 
the  National  Constitution,  in  legal 
cases  growing  out  of  the  claims  of 
slavery  upon  colored  persons  who  had 
taken  refuge  in  Ohio.  This  course 
naturally  made  him  a  leader  in  the  new 
political  organizations,  which  were  re- 
quired to  secure  the  maintenance  of 
these  principles.  Having  been  attached 
to  the  Democratic  party,  he  now  tested 
party  distinctions  by  their  greater  or 
less  subserviency  to  the  slave  power,  of 
which  he  was  a  resolute  opponent.  In- 
dependent action  was  needed,  and  in 
this  Mr.  Chase  was  a  pioneer  of  the 
Eepublican  cause.  At  the  head  of  the 
liberty  party  in  Ohio,  he  devoted  him- 
self unreservedly  to  the  inculcation  of 
the  creed  that  slavery  was  in  its  nature 
a  local,  and  not  a  national  institution, 
and  that  the  powers  of  the  Grovern- 
ment,  under  the  Constitution,  were  to 
be  exerted  on  the  side  of  freedom. 


1 

I 

I 


SALMON   PORTLAND  CHASE. 


321 


From  1841,  by  Lis  pen  and  in  conven- 
tions, lie  battled  for  these  principles, 
till  lie  Lad  tlie  satisfaction,  in  1848,  of 
^^•itnessing  tlieir  adoption  by  the  free- 
soil  party  of  that  day.  The  following 
year  he  was  elected  by  the  democratic 
and  free-soil  members  of  the  Ohio  Leg- 
islature to  the  United  States  Senate, 
where,  in  opposition  to  the  compromise 
measures  of  Mr.  Clay — the  repeal  of 
the  Missouri  Act  in  the  Kansas  and 
Nebraska  bill,  and  in  other  proceedings, 
he  maintained  the  principles  of  free- 
dom, of  which  he  was  now  acknow- 
ledo-ed  among;  the  foremost  and  most 
able  advocates.  He  was  also  diligent 
in  his  attention  to  National  and  West- 
ern interests,  in  the  furtherance  of  the 
projected  Pacific  Eailway,  and  the  free 
homestead  bilL  In  1855  he  was  elected 
by  the  free-soil  vote  Governor  of  Ohio. 
On  his  entrance  upon  the  office,  he 
brought  his  accustomed  energy  to  his 
new  duties,  advocating  all  liberal  mea- 
sures of  improvement,  and  particularly 
distinguishing  himself  byjiis  efficient 
recommendations  in  regard  to  the 
financial  policy  of  the  State.  His  ser- 
vices in  these  respects  were  so  marked, 


and  his  principles  held  in  such  esteem, 
that  he  was  triumphantly  elected  to  a 
second  term. 

This  brought  him  to  the  opening  of 
the  new  era,  when  the  principles  of  na- 
tional policy,  which  he  had  so  long 
supported,  became  dominant  in  the 
election  of  Mr.  Lincoln  to  the  Presi- 
dency. His  appointment  to  a  seat  in 
the  new  Cabinet  at  Washington  was  a 
tribute  to  his  ability  and  persistent 
advocacy  of  the  doctrines  of  the  suc- 
cessful Kepublican  party ;  and  in  con- 
sideration of  his  integrity,  and  the 
financial  skill  which  he  had  displayed 
in  the  Governor's  chair  in  Ohio,  he  was 
wisely  placed  at  the  head  of  the  Trea- 
sury Department.  In  the  records  of 
the  great  struggle  with  the  Rebellion, 
the  history  of  the  gigantic  financial  mea- 
sures proposed  and  carried  into  effect 
by  him,  which  became  a  necessity  of 
the  times,  and  which,  whatever  their 
ultimate  result,  with  equal  simplicity 
and  success  met  the-  successive  enor- 
mous demands  of  the  day — will  give  to 
Secretary  Chase,  certainly  no  inferior 
place  in  the  annals  of  this  extraordi- 
nary period. 


JOHN  TYLER. 


The  family  of  John  Tyler  was  of  an 
old  English  stock,  established  in  Vir- 
ginia from  the  early  days  of  the  settle- 
ment. He  is  said,  in  fact,  by  one  of  his 
biographers,  to  be  descended  from  that 
redoubtable  Walter  or  Watt  Tyler,  the 
man  of  Kent  who  offered  such  brave 
resistance  to  the  tax-gatherers  of  the 
second  Richard,  and  who  had  for  his 
associate  the  famous  John  Ball,  a  reve- 
rend itinerant,  to  whom  is  attributed 
the  wholesome  democratic  inquiry 

When  Adam  delved  and  Eve  span 
Who  was  then  the  gentleman  ? 

Be  all  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the 
grandfather  of  the  President  was  a  re- 
spectable landholder  in  the  colony  of 
Virginia,  in  the  vicinity  of  Williams- 
burgh,  enjoying  the  office  of  marshal  in 
the  ante-revolutionary  period.  His  son, 
John  Tyler,  born  in  time  to  take  part 
in  the  new  era,  was  a  member  of  the 
House  of  Delegates  from  Charles  City 
County  when  Patrick  Henry  and  his  as- 
sociates sounded  the  first  notes  of  revolt. 
As  the  cause  advanced  he  devoted  his 
fortunes  and  energies  to  the  patriotic 
work,  and  was  rewarded  by  the  suf 
frages  of  the  people  with  the  highest 
honors  of  the  State.  He  rose  to  be 
speaker  of  the  House  of  Delegates, 
Governor  of  the  State,  Judge  of  the 

822 


United  States  District  Court,  and  in  his 
last  days,  in  the  period  of  the  second 
war  with  England,  was  created  by  Pre- 
sident Madison,  Judge  of  the  Federal 
Court  of  Admiralty.  He  died  at  the 
age  of  sixty-five.  He  was  the  intimate 
friend  and  correspondent  of  Patrick 
Henry,  for  whom  he  entertained  an 
ardent  admiration.  'No  one  was  more 
esteemed  or  better  thought  of  in  the 
State, 

This  revolutionary  patriot  left  three 
sons,  the  first  of  whom  appears  to  have 
been  called  Watt,  after  the  old  English- 
man of  the  people,  the  stout  rebel  of 
the  fourteenth  century.  The.  second, 
destined  to  occupy  the  chair  of  the  Pre- 
sident of  the  United  States,  named  after 
his  father  and  grandfather,  John,  was 
born  in  Charles  City  County,  March 
29,  1*790.  The  youth  had  the  educa- 
tion and  training  of  the  son  of  a  Vir- 
ginia gentleman.  At  the  age  of  twelve 
he  entered  the  college  of  William  and 
Mary,  at  Williamsburg,  and  enjoyed 
the  particular  friendship  of  the  venera- 
ble Bishop  Madison,  who  had  then  pre- 
sided over  the  institution  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century.  He  graduated  with  cre- 
dit, his  commencement  address  on 
"Female  Education"  gaining  more  than 
the  usual  plaudits  of  such  occasions, 
and  next  occupied  himself  with  the 


JOHN 

study  of  tlie  law,  partly  with  his  father 
the  judge,  partly  with  the  eminent 
Ln^yer  Edmund  Randolph,  who  was  at 
one  time  Governor  of  the  State,  and 
Avho  was  conspicuous  in  the  affiiirs  of 
the  nation  as  a  member  of  the  old 
Con2:ress,  the  Convention  of  the  Con- 
stitution,  and  the  cabinet  of  President 
Washington.  At  nineteen,  we  are  told, 
he  was  permitted  to  practice  at  the  bar, 
no  question  being  made  as  to  his  age ; 
and  his  success  was  decided.  On  ar- 
riving at  twenty-one  he  was  unani- 
mously elected  a  member  of  the  House 
of  Dele2;ates.  It  was  at  the  season 
when  the  war  with  Great  Britain,  long 
imminent  was  on  the  eve  of  actual  out- 
break. The  topic  was  an  attractive 
one  for  many  a  nascent  orator  through- 
out the  country,  and  was  not  neglected 
by  the  youthful  Tyler.  By  education 
and  tradition  he  belonged  to  the  demo- 
cratic party,  and  his  voice  was  raised  in 
favor  of  a  vigorous  prosecution  of  hos- 
tilities by  the  government.  When  the 
war  had  been  entered  upon  and  the 
British  forces  in  Chesapeake  Bay  threat- 
ened an  attack  on  Norfolk  and  Eich- 
mond,  the  young  legislator  turned  his 
attention  to  the  more  active  prepara- 
tion for  the  field.  He  occupied  him- 
self in  raising  a  company  of  militia  in 
his  county,  whose  services  happily  were 
not  called  for.  This  slight  flavor  of 
warfare  in  comparison  with  the  impor- 
tant military  deeds  of  many  of  the  oc- 
cupants of  the  Presidential  chair,  gave 
him  the  familiar  title,  during  his  can- 
vass for  the  Presidency,  of  Captain 
Tyler ;  a  title  by  which  he  is  yet  occa- 
sionally named. 

We  must  not,  however,  anticipate 


TYLER.  323 

this  portion  of  his  career.  He  con- 
tinued for  five  years  a  member  of  the 
House  of  Delegates  in  Vii-ginla,  in  the 
last  of  which  he  was  raised  to  a  seat  in 
the  executive  council.  He  had  hardly, 
however,  entered  upon  this  new  honor 
when  another  awaited  him,  at  the  close 
of  1816,  in  his  election  to  the  House  of 
Kepresentatives,  to  fill  a  vacancy  caused 
by  the  death  of  the  incumbent.  His 
rival  in  the  canvass  was  a  gentleman, 
Mr.  Andrew  Stevenson,  afterward  dis- 
tinguished at  Washington,  whom  he 
defeated  by  a  majority  of  some  thirty 
votes.  At  the  next  regular  election  his 
triumph  over  the  same  candidate  was 
more  decided.  In  his  course  in  the 
House  he  pursued  generally  the  career, 
so  plainly  marked  out  under  the  rigid 
party  discipline  in  that  State,  of  a  state- 
rights  or  strict  constructional  Virginia 
politician.  He  was  opposed  to  internal 
improvements,  and  to  that  great"  evil  in 
the  eyes  of  all  thoroughly-trained  demo- 
crats, a  national  bank.  He  opposed  Mr, 
Clay  in  his  attempt  to  gain  the  recog- 
nition of  the  independence  of  the  South 
American  Republics,  but  was  with  him 
in  the  censure  of  General  Jackson's  as- 
sumptions of  responsibility  in  the  Semi- 
nole wars.  A  third  time  elected  to  Con- 
gress, he  voted  in  1820  for  the  unre- 
stricted admission  of  Missouri  into 
the  Union.  Before  his  new  term  of 
ofiice  had  expired  he  was  compelled  to 
seek  retirement  in  consequence  of  ill 
health.  He  returned  to  his  farm  in 
Charles  City  County,  and  continued  the 
practice  of  his  profession. 

Accorclino;  to  a  custom  which  does 
honor  to  American  politics,  he  thought 
it  no  indignity  after  occupying  a  seat 


324 


JOHN  TYLER 


in  the  national  councils,  to  return  again 
to  the  liumbler  duties,  with  which  he 
had  commenced  life,  of  service  in  the  le- 
gislature of  his  state.  He  was  for  three 
years,  from  1823  in  the  House  of  Dele- 
gates, applying  his  best  efforts  to  the 
welfere  of  Virginia,  It  is  an  example 
which  might  be  more  generally  imitated. 
Our  state  legislatures  embrace  a  variety 
of  interests  untnown  to  the  national 
representatives  at  Washington,  and  the 
maturity  of  years  and  experience  might 
be  brought  to  them  with  effect.  Mr. 
Tyler  in  this  capacity  applied  his  efforts 
to  the  improvement  of  Virginia,  and 
many  of  the  finest  roads  in  the  state,  it 
is  said,  are  due  to  his  exertions. 

In  1825  he  was  chosen  Grovernor  of 
the  State,  and  in  the  following  year 
was  taken  from  that  of&ce  to  succeed 
John  Randolph  in  the  Senate  of  the 
United  States.  It  was  the  third  year 
of  the  administration  of  John  Quincy 
Adams  when  he  took  his  seat  and  he 
at  once  engaged  on  the  side  of  the  op- 
position, that  is  in  support  of  the  ine- 
vitable nomination  of  General  Jackson 
as  the  succeeding  President.  In  the 
late  election  he  had  been  in  favor  of 
the  Southern  candidate,  Mr.  Crawford, 
and  on  the  decision  being  carried  into 
the  House,  had  cheerfully  acquiesced  in 
Mr.  Clay's  casting  vote  for  Mr.  Adams. 
The  latter  soon  lost  ground  and  every 
means  was  taken  for  his  defeat. 

When  General  Jackson  was  elected, 
Mr.  Tyler  was  one  of  his  supporters  in 
the  Senate,  at  least  on  such  questions 
as  his  rejection  of  internal  improve- 
ments and  veto  of  the  Bank.  He  op- 
posed a  tariff  for  protection.  On  one 
important  measure,  however,  he  was  in 


opposition  to  the  President.  He  took 
part  with  the  South  Carolinians  in  their 
nullification  doctrines,  and  spoke  against 
the  Force  Bill  introduced  into  the  Se- 
nate to  aid  General  Jackson  in  their 
overthrow.  When  Mr.  Clay  introduced 
his  compromise  bill,  modifying  the  ob- 
noxious tariff,  Mr.  Tyler  gave  it  his 
support. 

On  the  close  of  his  term  in  1833,  he 
was  again  elected  to  the  Senate.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  that  second  term 
of  Jackson's  administration  memorable 
in  the  annals  of  the  country  for  the 
accomplishment  of  his  warfare  against 
that  political  giant,  the  Bank  of  the 
United  States.    To  these  measures  Mr. 
Tyler  in  conjunction  with  Mr.  Calhoun 
and  other  members  of  his  party  stood 
opposed.     He  voted  in  favor  of  Mr. 
Clay's  resolutions  of  censure,  standing 
on  his  old  Virginia  ground  as  a  strict 
constructionist,  hostile  to  all  undue  as- 
sumptions of  power  on  the  part  of  the 
Executive.    He  did  this  at  the  time  no 
less  in  accordance  with  his  own  feelings 
than  with  the  views  of  the  Virginia  le- 
gislature which  had  elected  him.  Time 
passed  on,  and  the  President,  gaining 
ground  throughout  the  country  and  in 
the  Senate,  the  pertinacious  resolution 
of  Mr.  Benton  to  expunge  the  obnoxious 
resolution  was  pressed  to  a  final  issue. 
Mr.  Tyler  now  received  instructions  to 
vote  for  it.    What  should  he  do  ?  The 
right  of  instruction  and  the  duty  of  the 
Representative  to  obey  it  had  always 
been  a  maxim  of  his  political  creed, 
which  it  so  happened  that  he  had  on 
more  than  one  occasion  in  his  career, 
brought  conspicuously  before  the  pub- 
lic.   Could  he  now  disavow  his  che- 


JOHN 

rislied  convictions?  One  choice  was 
left  liim — to  resign,  and  lie  clieerfully 
mot  the  issue,  resigning  his  seat  in  the 
Senate  rather  than  take  part  in  the 
mutilation  of  the  sacred  record.  In  his 
letter  of  resignation  to  the  Les-islature 
of  Virginia  he  wrote :  "  I  dare  not  touch 
the  Journal  of  the  Senate.  The  Con- 
stitution forbids  it.  In  the  midst  of  all 
the  agitations  of  party,  I  have  hereto- 
fore stood  by  that  sacred  instrument. 
It  is  the  only  post  of  honor  and  of  safety. 
A  seat  in  the  Senate  is  sufficiently  ele- 
vated to  fill  the  measure  of  any  man's 
ambition ;  and  as  an  evidence  of  the 
sincerity  of  my  convictions  that  your 
resolutions  cannot  be  executed,  without 
violating  my  oath,  I  surrender  into  your 
hands  three  unexpired  years  of  my  term. 
I  shall  carry  with  me  into  retirement 
the  principles  which  I  brought  with  me 
into  public  life,  and  by  the  surrender 
of  the  high  station  to  which  I  was 
called  by  the  voice  of  the  people  of 
Virginia,  I  shall  set  an  example  to  my 
children  which  shall  teach  them  to  re- 
gard as  nothing,  place  and  office,  when 
to  be  either  obtained  or  held  at  the  sac- 
rifice of  honor."  In  the  excited  state 
of  the  political  world  at  the  time,  when 
the  attention  of  the  whole  community 
was  fastened  upon  the  scene  in  the  Se- 
nate, such  an  act  could  not  escape  notice. 
It  met  with  the  general  plaudits  of  the 
country. 

Mr.  Tyler  now  became  a  resident  at 
Williamsburg,  the  early  residence  of 
his  father,  and  passed  his  time  in  com- 
parative retirement.  In  the  presiden- 
tial canvass  of  1836  he  was  placed  on 
the  ticket  for  Vice  President  in  several 
of  the  states,  receiving  forty-seven  votes 
n.— 41 


TYLER.  325 

in  all.  His  support  was  derived  from 
the  Southern  State  Rights  Party  in  op- 
position to  Jackson  and  Van  Buren. 
Two  years  later,  in  1838,  we  find  him 
once  more  seated  in  the  Virginia  House 
of  Delegates  "  acting  with  the  Whig 
Party,  under  which  name  the  difi^erent 
sections  of  the  opposition  to  Mr.  Van 
Buren's  administration  gradually  be- 
came amalgamated  in  Virginia."  This 
connexion  introduced  him  to  the  Whig 
nominating  convention  of  1839,  which 
sat  at  Harrisburg  where  he  made  his 
appearance  as  a  friend  of  Henry  Clay. 
Upon  the  vote  being  taken  in  favor 
of  General  Harrison,  Mr.  Tyler  was 
adopted  on  the  ticket  as  Vice  President. 
In  the  election  which  ensued  he  was 
chosen  by  the  same  overwhelming  vote 
with  the  President. 

The  fourth  of  March,  1841,  saw  the 
inauguration  of  President  Harrison  at 
Washington,  and  barely  one  mouth 
after.  Vice  President  Tyler  was  himself 
summoned  from  his  home  at  Williams- 
burg to  enter  upon  the  duties  of  that 
high  office.  It  was  the  first  time  death 
had  seized  an  occupant  of  the  presiden- 
tial chair.  President  Plarrison  died  on 
the  fourth  of  April,  at  Washington. 
Congress  was  not  in  session.  The  offi- 
cers of  the  cabinet,  of  whom  Daniel 
Webster  was  at  the  head,  took  charge 
of  the  government  for  the  moment,  im- 
mediately sending  a  special  messenger 
with  an  announcement  to  Vice  Presi- 
dent Tyler  of  the  melancholy  fact.  On 
the  morning  of  the  second  day,  the  sixth 
of  April,  Mr.  Tyler  arrived  in  Washing- 
ton, and  the  same  day,  before  Judge 
Cranch,  of  the  District  of  Columbia, 
took  the  oath,  "  faithfully  to  execute  the 


826 


JOHN  TYLER. 


office  of  President  of  the  United  States, 
and  to  the  best  of  liis  ability,  preserve, 
protect  and  defend  tlie  Constitution  of 
tlie  United  States."  He  did  not  think 
it  necessary  to  make  this  oath  after  that 
which  he  had  taken  on  entering  upon 
his  duties  as  Vice  President  but  as  a 
measure  of  prudence  and  "  for  greater 
caution  as  doubts  may  arise."  On  re- 
ceivino;  the  members  of  the  cabinet  he 
expressed  his  wish  that  they  should 
remain  in  office.  The  funeral  of  the 
late  president  took  place  on  the  seventh 
and  was  attended  by  President  Tyler. 

There  was  no  public  ceremonial  of 
an  inauguration  on  his  taking  the  oath 
before  Justice  Cranch  and  consequently 
no  public  address,  but  two  days  after 
the  funeral,  on  the  ninth  of  April,  an 
"  inaugural  address  "  was  issued  by  the 
President  which  was  read  with  much 
interest.  It  was  expected  to  solve  the 
question  which  began  to  be  much  agi- 
tated of  the  degi-ee  of  conformity  of 
the  views  of  the  new  incumbent  to  the 
Whig  principles  of  his  predecessor.  He 
had,  as  we  have  seen,  been  led  on  vari- 
ous occasions  to  cooperate  with  the 
Whig  party,  but  many  of  his  anteced- 
ents were  directly  hostile  to  their  views. 
His  name  had  been  placed  on  the 
ticket  in  the  Southern  interest  and  as  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Clay,  without  any  distinct 
pledges  on  his  part  to  serve  the  doc- 
trines of  the  party.  In  fact  the  proba- 
bility of  his  being  placed  in  the  autho- 
ritative position  of  President  had  not 
been  very  seriously  if  at  all  entertained, 
by  the  convention  which,  somewhat 
hastily,  put  him  in  nomination.  The 
address,  however,  was  upon  the  whole, 
acceptable  to  the  Whigs,    it  certainly 


gave  little  satisfaction  to  the  opposite 
party  which  saw  in  it  a  lurking  con- 
demnation of  the  "assumptions"  of 
President  Jackson,  and  an  inclination, 
at  least,  toward  a  national  bank.-^ 

A  few  days  after  this  address  Presi- 
dent Tyler  issued  "  a  recommendation  " 
to  the  people  of  the  United  States,  of  a 
day  of  fasting  and  prayer,  in  recognition 
of  the  solemn  bereavement  in  the  death 
of  the  late  president. 

An  extra  session  of  Congress  had 
been  already  summoned  by  President 
Harrison,  to  meet  the  last  day  of  May. 
It  sat  from  that  date  till  September. 
As  its  main  object  was  to  take  into  con- 
sideration the  financial  condition  of  the 
country,  and,  if  possible,  provide  ways 
and  means  for  its  relief,  the  question  of 
the  creation  of  a  new  United  States 
Bank  became  a  paramount  subject  of 
discussion.  The  President  was  apj)a- 
rently  in  favor  of  such  an  institution. 
In  his  message  he  reviewed  the  previous 
course  of  legislation  in  this  matter,  and 
admitted  the  last  substitute,  the  sub- 
treasury,  to  be  condemned  by  the  peo- 
ple. "To  you,  then,"  he  concluded, 
addressing  Congress,  "  who  have  come 
more  directly  from  the  body  of  our  com- 
mon constituents,  I  submit-  the  entire 
question,  as  best  qualified  to  give  a  full 
exposition  of  their  wishes  and  opinions. 
I  shall  be  ready  to  concur  with  you  in 
the  adoption  of  such  system  as  you  may 
propose,  reserving  to  myself  the  ulti- 
mate power  of  rejecting  any  measure 
which  may,  in  my  view  of  it,  conflict 
with  the  Constitution,  or  otherwise 
jeopard  the  prosperity  of  the  country — 

'  Benton's  Thirty  Years'  View,  II.,  212. 


JOTIX  TYLER. 


327 


a  power  wliicli  I  could  not  part  with  if 
I  would,  but  wliicli  I  will  not  believe 
any  act  of  yours  will  call  into  requisi- 
tion." This  sentence  foreshadowed  tlie 
result.  Two  bills  were  prepared  ac- 
cording to  plans  more  or  less  adapted 
to  the  views  of  the  President,  and  both, 
when  they  had  been  passed  after  much 
discussion  in  Congress,  were  vetoed  by 
liim.  For  the  plans  and  devices,  tbe 
learned  political  doubts  and  constitu- 
tional arguments  on  either  side  we 
must  refer  the  reader  to  tbe  debates  in 
Congress  and  the  messages  of  President 
Tyler  himself.  On  the  side  of  the 
Whigs  throughout  the  country  there 
sprung  up  a  great  disaffection  in  conse- 
quence, toward  the  President  whom 
they  had  created.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Democratic  party  thanked  their  un- 
expected assistant  wdth  moderated  en- 
thusiasm. It  was  thought  to  be  the 
last  elfort  in  Congress  to  establish  a 
National  Bank.  Other  measures  of  re- 
lief, hoAvever,  were  passed  at  this  extra 
session  including  the  bankrupt  act  and 
a  national  loan. 

The  defection  of  President  Tyler,  as 
it  was  considered,  from  the  "Whig  party 
caused  the  resignation  of  most  of  the 
members  of  his  cabinet.    Daniel  Web- 
ster, however,  remained  in  the  office  of 
Secretary  of  State  to  complete  the  im- 
portant negotiation  with  England  in 
reference  to  the  disputed  North  Eastern 
Boundary.     This  treaty,  one  of  the 
most  important  acts  of  President  Tyler's 
administration,  was  negotiated  between 
Lord  Ashburton  who  was  sent  a  special 
minister  from  England  for  the  purpose, 
and  Mr.  Webster  as  Secretary  of  State 
in  1842.    Mr.  Webster  held  his  office 


in  the  cabinet  till  May  of  the  following 
year.    His  successor  was  Mr.  Abel  P. 
Upshur  of  Virginia,  who  perished  while 
in  office,  in  February,  1844,  by  the  fatal 
explosion  on  board  the  Princeton,  on  the 
Potomac.    Mr.  Calhoun  was  afterwards 
appointed  Secretary  of  State,  and  in 
1844  negotiated  a  treaty  of  annexation 
between  the  United  States  and  the  Re- 
public of  Texas,  which  was  rejected  by 
the  Senate.    In  the  following  year  the 
annexation,  which  had   been  recom- 
mended by  the  President,  and  became 
a  test  question  with  politicians  through 
the  country,  passed  both  houses.  This 
was  among  the  last  acts  of  President 
Tyler's  administration.    His  successor, 
Mr.  Polk,  had  already  been  chosen,  and 
a  few  months  after,  on  the  fourth  of 
March,  1845,  entered  upon  the  duties 
of  his  office.    Mr.  Tyler  then  retii^ed  to 
his  seat  in  Virginia,  carrying  with  him 
to  grace  his  home  a  lady  of  New  York, 
a  daughter  of  the  late   Mr.  David 
Gardner,  whom  he  had  married  during 
his  Presidency,  in  1844.    He  had  been 
previously  married  in  1813  to  a  lady 
of  Virginia,  Miss  Letitia  Christian,  who 
died  at  Washington,  leaving  three  sons 
and  three  daughters.    One  of  the  sons, 
Mr.  Robert  Tyler,  attracted  some  at- 
tention in  the  literary  world  as  the 
author  of  a  poem  entitled  Ahasuerus. 
After  his  retirement  from  the  Presi- 
dency Mr.  Tyler  passed  his  time  in 
honorable  leisure,  appearing  on  one  or 
two   occasions  to  deliver  public  ad- 
dresses on  anniversary  and  other  meet- 
ings of  historical  or  other  general  in- 
terest.   His  first   production  of  this 
kind  was  an  address  which  should  have 
been  mentioned  in  the  order  of  our  nar- 


328 


JOHN  TYLEU. 


rative,  delivered  in  July,  1826,  at  tlie 
capitol  square  in  Riclimond,  in  memory 
of  his  own  and  father's  friend,  the  illus- 
trious Jefferson. 

The  agitation  arising  out  of  the  Pre- 
sidential election  of  1860  brought  Mr. 
Tyler  again  before  the  public.  When 
the  success  of  the  Republican  party  in 
the  election  of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  followed 
by  threats  and  active  measures  of  dis- 
union on  the  part  of  the  South,  he  was 
sent  by  the  legislature  of  Virginia  to 
Washington,  a  member  of  the  notable 
Peace  Convention  of  delegates  from  the 
northern  and  border  States,  a  measure 
originally  proposed  in  Virginia  v^th 
the  view  of  warding  off  impending  hos- 
tilities between  the  two  portions  of  the 
country  by  some  adjustment  or  com- 
promise of  the  questions  in  dispute. 
The  convention  met  at  Washington  on 
the  4th  of  February,  1861,  and  Mr 
Tyler  was  chosen  its  President.    In  an 
opening  address  he  declared  the  object 
of  the  assembly  "  to  snatch  from  ruin 
a  great  and  glorious  confederation,  to 
preserve  the  government,  and  to  renew 
and  invigorate  the  Constitution."  In 
the  course  of  his  remarks  he  observed 
that   "our    ancestors   probably  com- 
mitted a  blunder  in  not  having  fixed 


upon  every  fifth  decade  for  a  call  of 
a  general  convention  to  amend  and 
reform  the  Constitution."     The  con- 
vention, in  which  twenty-one  States 
were  represented,  debated  for  three 
weeks  various  propositions,  and  finally 
determined  upon  the  recommendation 
of  a  plan,  extending  the  line  of  the 
Missouri  Compromise  to  the  Pacific,  and 
proposing  additional  securities  for  the 
"peculiar  institution"  by  limitation  of 
the  legislation  of  Congress,  and  other 
measures.    The  whole  was  submitted 
to  the  consideration  of  the  national 
Congress  then  in  session,  and  the  con- 
vention adjourned. 

Congress  was  not  disposed  to  accept 
this  and  the  like  palliatives  of  the  na- 
tional difficulties  which  were  proposed 
in  that  body.  The  crisis  rapidly  ap- 
proached. The  acts  of  secession  of  the 
Southern  States  were  followed  by  the 
attack  on  Sumter.  Virginia,  no  longer 
neutral,  cast  in  her  lot  with  the  Con- 
federacy, and  Mr.  Tyler  followed  the 
fortunes  of  his  State,  and  became  an 
active  Secessionist.  -  He  was  chosen  a 
senator  in  the  Confederate  Congress, 
and  held  this  position  at  the  time  of 
his  death,  which  occurred  suddenly  at 
Richmond,  January  18,  1862. 


/ 


JOHN   CHARLES  FREMONT. 


John  Charles  Feemokt  was  born  at 
Savannah,  Gra.,  January  21st,  1813. 
His  father,  born  in  France,  had  settled 
in  Norfolk,  Virginia,  where  he  sup- 
ported himself  by  teaching  his  native 
language.  He  married  a  lady  of  good 
family  of  the  State,  whose  maiden  name 
was  Ann  Beverly  Whiting,  of  Glou- 
cester county.  Removing  from  Vir- 
ginia to  South  Carolina,  his  son,  John 
Charles,  was  born  while  the  family  was 
visiting  the  adjacent  State.  The  father 
dying  in  1818,  his  widow  lived  for  a 
time  in  Virginia,  when  she  made  her 
permanent  home  in  Charleston,  S.  C. 
There  her  son,  a  boy  of  quick  intellect, 
at  the  age  of  thirteen,  attracted  the 
notice  of  a  worthy  lawyer  of  the  city, 
John  W.  Mitchell,  who  placed  him  un- 
der the  instruction  of  a  well-known 
classical  teacher.  Dr.  Robertson,  with 
whom,  proving  an  apt  scholar,  he  was 
taught  in  a  single  year,  sufficient  Greek, 
Latin,  and  mathergatics,  to  enter  the 
junior  class  in  Charleston  College. 
There  he  ranked  high,  but  neglecting 
the  necessary  attendance,  was  expelled 
from  the  institution. 

On  leaving  college  he  occupied  him- 
self diligently  in  the  business  of  tuition 
in  the  city,  giving  private  lessons  in 
mathematics,  teaching  classes  in  several 
schools,  and  adding  to  these  labors  the 


superintendance  of  an  evening  school. 
His  mathematical  acquirements  pre- 
sently brought  him  employment  as  a 
surveyor,  and  when  in  1833,  the  sloop- 
of-war  Natchez  was  stationed  in  the 
harbor,  sent  there  to  enforce  the  pro- 
clamation of  President  Jackson,  by 
friendly  influence  at  Washington,  he 
was  appointed  teacher  of  mathematics 
on  board  that  vessel  and  was  two  years 
absent  with  her  on  the  Brazilian  station. 
On  his  return  he  was  commissioned 
professor  of  mathematics  in  the  Navy, 
in  consideration  of  which  his  Charles- 
ton college  conferred  u|)on  him  the  de- 
grees of  Bachelor  and  Master  of  Arts. 
The  land,  however,  not  the  sea,  was  to 
be  the  field  of  his  future  labors.  Re- 
ceiving a  government  appointment  as 
civil  engineer,  he  resigned  his  post  in 
the  Navy,  and  became  actively  engaged 
in  the  survey  of  the  mountain  region  of 
the  Carolinas  and  Tennessee.  In  this 
capacity  he  passed  the  winter  of  1837- 
38,  with  Captain  Williams,  in  a  survey 
of  the  Cherokee  Country.  In  1838  he 
was  commissioned  second  lieutenant  of 
the  corps  of  topographical  engineers. 
Two  years  were  now  passed  by  him 
with  Mr.  Nicollet,  a  French  savan,  em- 
ployed by  the  government  in  explo- 
rations of  the  country  north  of  the  Mis- 
souri, to  the  British  line.  In  the  spring 

829 


330 


JOHN  CUARLES  FREMONT. 


of  1841,  by  order  of  the  War  Depart- 
ment, lie  was  engaged  in  a  survey  of 
tlie  Des  Moines  River,  on  tlie  western 
frontier.  Returning  to  Washington 
while  engaged  in  preparing  the  report 
of  these  expeditions,  he  was  married  in 
October,  to  Jessie,  daughter  of  Senator 
Benton. 

The  next  year  saw  him  launched  on 
that  career  of  original  explorations 
which  has  identified  his  name  with  the 
passes  and  defiles  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  the  great  interests  of  the 
Pacific  coast.  Impressed  by  his  pre- 
vious travels  with  the  opportunities  of 
discovery  in  the  remote  west,  and  urged 
by  his  love  of  adventure  to  the  under- 
taking, in  ]Dursuance  of  plans  of  his 
own,  and  assisted  by  the  sagacity  and 
influence  of  his  father-in-law,  he  was 
placed  by  the  War  Department  at  the 
head  of  an  expedition  ordered  to  ex- 
plore and  report  upon  the  country  be- 
tween the  frontiers  of  Missouri  and  the 
South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
and  on  the  line  of  the  Kansas  and  Great 
Platte  Rivers.  Within  six  months  of 
the  time  of  leaving  Washington,  be- 
tween May  and  October,  he  had  or- 
ganized the  expedition — a  band  of 
Creole  and  Canadian  voyageurs,  accom- 
panied by  Mr.  Charles  Preuss,  an  artist 
from  Germany,  and  the  celebrated 
hunter  Kit  Carson,  as  guide — and  tra- 
versed the  region  west  of  Missouri,  along 
the  Platte,  to  the  South  Pass,  which  he 
fully  ex:plored,  extending  his  journey  to 
the  Wind  River  Mountains,  on  the 
north,  the  highest  of  which  13,750  feet 
above  the  sea,  he  ascended,  planting 
the  United  States  flag  on  its  summit — 
in  commemoi'ation  of  which  event  the 


Peak  now  bears  his  name.  The  rej)ort 
of  this  exploration  to  the  Engineer  De- 
partment, dated,  Washington,  March 
1st,  1843,  written  in  the  form  of  a  jour 
nal,  filled  with  observations  of  the  ab- 
original inhabitants  whom  he  met,  the 
geographical,  natural  history,  and  other 
scientific  details  of  the  route,  was  uni- 
versally regarded  as  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  valuable  contributions 
of  the  kind  yet  made  in  America,  while 
its  value  was  greatly  enhanced  by  its 
bearing  upon  the  rapidly  developing 
progress  of  the  western  settlements, 
whose  teeming  po|)ulation  was  even 
then  looking  forward  to  an  outlet  to 
the  Pacific. 

These  satisfactory  results  led  to  a 
second  expedition  under  Lieutenant  Fre- 
mont, to  Oregon  and  North  California, 
in  1843-4.  Carefully  selecting  his 
party,  which  was  again  reinforced  by  the 
invaluable  Kit  Carson,  Lieutenant  Fre- 
mont left  the  frontier  of  Missouri  in 
May,  1843,  pursued  his  way  by  the 
Kansas  and  Platte  rivers  to  the  South 
Pass,  which  he  reached  in  August,  then 
turned  in  a  south-westerly  course  to 
the  Great  Salt  Lake,  whence  he  pro- 
ceeded northerly  to  the  upper  tribu- 
taries of  the  Columbia,  following  that 
river  to  the  Pacific,  where  he  arrived  in 
November.  On  his  return  home  he 
took  a  new  route  through  an  entirely 
unknown  region  to  the  south-east, 
which  led  him  through  many  wintry 
perils  to  a  desert  region,  separated  by 
a  range  of  mountains  from  the  Bay 
of  San  Francisco.  In  danger  of  starva- 
tion, he  crossed  the  Sierra  Nevada,  to 
the  Valley  of  the  Sacramento.  Thence 
skirting  the  Western  base  of  the  moun- 


JOHN   CHARLES  FREMONT. 


331 


tains,  lie  crossed,  to  the  Great  Basin, 
and  readied  Kansas  in  July,  18'14,  by 
w;  v  of  tlie  South  Pass.  Government 
rewarded  the  Explorer  with  the  brevet 
rank  of  Captain  iu  the  army. 

A  third  expedition  carried  Captain 
Fremont  into  Califoi'nia  at  the  transi- 
tion period,  in  its  fortunes,  when,  by 
the  fortune  of  war  it  was  about  passing 
from  Mexican  rule  to  the  possession  of 
the  United  States.  Having  spent  the 
summer  aud  autumn  of  1845  in  explo- 
ration of  the  region  of  the  Great  Basin, 
he  entered  in  the  winter  the  Valley  of 
the  San  Joaquin.  The  Mexican  Gov- 
ernor at  Monterey,  General  Castro,  was 
inclined  to  oppose  his  progress,  but  the 
apparently  imminent  hostilities  were 
for  the  time  obviated.  In  the  spiing 
of  1846,  however,  when  Fremont  was 
making  his  way  towards  Oregon,  he 
was  recalled  by  an  outbreak  of  the 
American  settlers  on  the  Sacramento, 
against  the  Mexican  authorities,  who 
were  showing  themselves  hostile,  and 
was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  move- 
ment which  speedily  resulted  in  the 
independence  of  Northern  California. 
A  naval  squadron  now  arrived  and 
took  possession  of  Monterey.  Fremont, 
appointed  by  Commodore  Stockton, 
military  commandant  and  civil  gov- 
ernor of  the  country — at  the  head 
of  a  body  of  mounted  riflemen  sup- 
pressed insurrections,  and  held  the 
region  for  the  United  States.  General 
Kearney  now  arrived  and  claimed  com- 
mand as  superior  officer.  A  conflict 
of  authority  arose  in  which  Fremont 
sided  with  Commodore  Stockton.  The 
Government  at  Washington  decided  in 
favor  of  .Kearney,  between  whom  and 


Fremont  difficulties  arose,  which  ended 
on  their  way  home,  in  the  arrest  of  the 
latter.  He  ^vas  tried  l)y  a  court  martial 
at  Washington,  found  guilty  of  mutiny, 
disobedience  of  orders,  and  conduct  pre- 
judicial to  military  discipline,  and  sen- 
tenced to  dismissal  from  the  service. 
President  Polk  refused  to  confirm  the 
verdict  of  mutiny  and  remitted  the  sen- 
tence ;  but  Fremont  refusing  to  accept 
a  pardon,  resigned  his  commission. 

In  October,  1848,  on  his  own  account, 
Fremont  engaged  in  another  expedition 
to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  by  the 
southern  route  of  the  Rio  Grande,  in 
which,  losing  his  way  in  the  mountains, 
west  of  Santa  Fe,  he  suffered  great 
hardships  with  his  party.  Arriving 
in  California  the  following  s|)ring,  he 
made  his  permanent  home  in  that 
country,  where  he  had  purchased  the 
vast  Mariposa  Estate,  of  which,  how- 
ever, he  did  not  gain  full  possession 
without  a  protracted  law-suit.  In  1849, 
he  was  appointed  by  President  Taylor 
commissioner  to  run  the  boundary- 
line  beween  the  United  States  and 
Mexic-o,  and  the  same  year  was  elected 
by  the  Legislature  of  the  new  State 
of  California  United  States  Senator. 
He  took  his  seat  immediately  on 
the  admission  of  the  State,  in  Sep- 
tember, 1850,  and  having  drawn  the 
short  term,  served  through  the  session. 
In  1852,  he  visited  Europe,  was  re- 
ceived  with  distinguished  attention, 
and  on  his  return  to  the  United  States, 
at  the  end  of  a  year,  in  view  of  the 
proposed  railway  to  the  Pacific,  engaged 
in  a  fifth  exploration  to  investigate  more 
fully  the  route  of  his  last  previous  ex- 
pedition.   In  1855,  we  find  him  a  resi 


383 


JOHN   CHARLES  FREMONT. 


dent  of  the  city  of  New  York,  where 
he  presently  became  an  object  of  atten- 
tion to  the  Republican  party,  as  a 
popular  candidate  for  the  Presidency, 
Avowing  his  devotion  to  their  free  soil 
policy,  he  was  nominated  by  their  con- 
vention in  1856,  and  in  the  ensuing 
election,  in  which  he  was  defeated  by 
Mr.  Buchanan,  received  a  popular  vote 
of  1,341.514,  and  the  electoral  vote  of 
the  New  England  States,  New  York, 
Ohio,  Michigan,  Iowa,  and  Wisconsin. 

Fremont  now  returned  to  California, 
where  he  employed  himself  with  the 
development  of  his  large  estate.  The 
outbreak  of  the  Eebellion  in  the  spring 
of  1861,  found  him  in  Europe,  where, 
after  taking  part  in  May  in  a  patriotic 
meeting  of  his  countrymen  in  Paris, 
he  hastened  home,  bringing  with  him 
a  larffe  and  valuable  assortment  of  arms 
for  the  Government.  On  the  sixth  of 
July,  having  been  appointed  a  major- 
general  in  the  regular  army,  he  wa^ 
placed  in  command  of  a  new  military 
district  known  as  the  Western  Depart- 
ment, embracing  the  State  of  Illinois 
and  the  States  and  Territories  west  of 
the  Mississippi  and  on  this  side  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  including  New  Mex- 
ico. Hastening  to  St.  Louis,  he  infused 
extraordinary  activity  into  the  military 
movements  of  the  department,  pro- 
claiming martial  law  in  the  city  and 
shortly  after  throughout  the  State,  and 
at  the  close  of  September,  having 
rapidly  organized  his  forces,  took  the 
field  at  the  head  of  a  large  army  to 
meet  the  enemy  at  Springfield.  There, 
on  the  eve  of  an  intended  general  en- 
gagement he  was  superseded  by  Gene- 


ral Hunter.  Taking  leave  of  his  troops, 
he  returned  to  the  East,  and  was  not 
again  called  into  active  service  till  the 
following  year,  when  in  March,  he  was 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  new 
Mountain  Department,  embracing  the 
country  west  of  the  Department  of  the 
Potomac  and  east  of  the  Department 
of  the  Mississippi.  It  was  understood 
that  a  main  object  of  this  service  was  a 
descent  to  the  region  of  East  Tennessee, 
which  was  held  powerful  rebel 

stronghold ;  but  from  this  or  any 
similar  project.  General  Fremont  was 
diverted  by  the  active  movements  of 
the  Confederate  General  Jackson,  along 
the  line  of  the  Blue  Ridge.  General  Fre- 
mont hastened  from  his  head-quarters 
at  Wheeling,  to  the  assistance  of  Gene- 
ral Milroy  at  Franklin,  whence  he  was 
ordered  across  the  mountains  to  the  aid 
of  General  Banks,  who,  after  having 
been  driven  out  of  the  Shenandoah 
Valley,  was  again  pressing  General 
Jackson  on  his  retreat.  Coming  up  in 
time  to  pursue  the  enemy,  he  kept  on 
his  rear  till  a  stand  was  made  by  Jack- 
son in  the  engagement  on  the  eighth 
of  June,  at  Cross  Keys.  The  battle, 
claimed  as  a  Union  victory,  resulted  in 
severe  losses  on  both  sides,  and  the 
escape  of  the  enemy.  General  Pope 
was  next  placed  as  commander-in-chief 
of  the  Army  of  Virginia,  which,  re- 
ducing General  Fremont  to  a  subor- 
dinate command,  he  asked  to  be  re- 
lieved, a  request  which  was  granted 
by  the  President.  Since  that  time  to 
the  present  (June,  1863),  General  Fre- 
mont has  not  been  employed  in  active 
service. 


/ 


MMWmiWIliraiUlMM— I 


FRANKLIN  PIERCE. 


FRAiSTKLEsr  PiERCE,  the  fourteentli  Pre- 
sident of  the  United  States,  was  born 
at  Hillsborough,  in  the  State  of  New 
Hampshire,  November  23,  1804.  His 
father,  Benjamin  Pierce,  a  native  of 
Massachusetts,  with  many  other  spirited 
youths,  entered  the  Revolutionary  army 
at  the  summons  of  Lexington,  served 
through  the  war  with  credit,  and  re- 
tinng  with  the  rank  of  captain,  a  year 
or  two  after  peace  was  declared,  became 
the  purchaser  of  a  plot  of  fifty  acres  in 
the  present  town  of  Hillsborough,  then 
a  rough  clearing  in  the  wilderness. 
There  he  built  a  log-house  and  settled 
down  to  the  clearing  of  the  land,  his 
second  wife,  to  whom  he  was  united  in 
1*789,  becoming  the  mother  of  the  sul)- 
ject  of  this  sketch  who  was  the  sixth 
of  her  eight  children.  The  captain  of 
the  Revolution  meanwhile  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  people  of  the  region, 
was  made  brigade  major  on  the  organi- 
zation of  the  militia  of  the  county; 
in  1789  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
House  of  Representatives  at  Concord, 
continuing  to  serve  in  that  capacity  for 
thirteen  years  till  he  was  chosen  a 
member  of  the  Governor's  Council.  An 
eminent  member  of  the  Democratic 
party,  he  was  an  ardent  supporter  of 
the  war  of  1812,  sending  two  of  his 
sons  to  the  army.   He  rose  to  be  Gover- 


nor of  ISTew  Hampshire  in  1827,  and 
was  again  elected  to  that  office  in  1829. 
He  subsequently  lived  in  retirement, 
leaving  the  world  in  1839,  at  the 
venerable  age  of  eighty-one.  The  peo- 
ple of  New  Hampshire  have  not  yet 
forgotten  the  shrewd  sense  and  kindli- 
ness, the  unaffected  democratic  princi- 
ples, of  the  honest,  cheerful  old  soldier 
of  the  Revolution  and  Governor  of  the 
State.  It  is  to  his  memory,  doubt- 
less, supported  by  the  popular  traits  of 
character  inherited  from  him,  that  his 
son  has  been  indebted  for  much  of  his 
advancement. 

Franklin  had  good  opportunities  of 
education.  He  was  early  sent  to  the 
neighboring  academies  at  Hancock  and 
Francestown,  enjoying  at  the  latter  the 
advantages  of  a  residence  with  the 
family  of  an  old  friend  of  his  father, 
Peter  Woodbury,  whose  son,  Judge 
Woodbury,  became  afterward  so  emi- 
nent in  public  affairs.  Young  Pierce, 
who  was  of  a  warm-hearted,  susceptible 
nature,  was  much  impressed  by  the 
superior  mind  and  character  of  the  lady 
of  this  household,  the  mother  of  Judge 
Woodbury,  Indeed  he  appears  in  his 
boyhood  to  have  won  the  kindness  of 
those  around  him  by  his  frank,  inge- 
nuous disposition.  He  was  admitted 
to  Bowdoin  college  in  1820.    It  is  to 


334 


FRANKLIN  PIERCE. 


tlie  credit  of  young  Pierce  as  a  collegian 
tliat,  having  fallen  into  some  indiffe- 
rence during  tlie  first  years  of  his 
course,  lie  more  tlian  regained  liis  posi- 
tion in  the  upper  classes,  graduating 
with  credit  in  1824.  It  is  a  fact  worth 
mentioning,  though,  as  his  biographer 
remarks,  by  no  means  unusual  in  the 
history  of  the  rise  of  New  England 
statesmen,  that  in  one  of  the  winter  va- 
cations Franklin  Pierce  took  a  turn  at 
school-keeping. 

His  college  instruction  being  com- 
pleted, he  began  the  study  of  the  law 
as  a  profession  in  the  office  of  Judge 
Woodbury,  of  Portsmouth,  the  son  of 
his  father's  old  friend,  then  Governor 
of  the  State,  and  soon  afterward  greatly 
distinguished  at  Washington  as  Speaker 
and  senator,  and  member  of  the  cabinet 
of  Jackson,  After  a  year  with  this 
eminent  jurist,  Mr,  Pierce  completed  his 
studies  in  the  law  school  at  Northamp- 
ton and  the  office  of  the  Hon,  Edmund 
Pai'ker,  at  Amherst.  He  was  admitted 
to  the  bar  in  1827,  and  opened  an  office 
opposite  to  his  father's  house  at  Hills- 
borough, His  success,  though  he  had 
the  advantage  of  the  family  popularity, 
was  not  very  decided  at  the  outset. 
His  biographer,  indeed,  speaks  of  his 
fir^  case  as  a  decided  failure.  He  had 
not  yet  learned  the  full  command  of 
his  resources.  It  was  his  fortune  to 
make  his  position  at  the  bar  good 
by  steady  effort.  Politics,  meanwhile, 
offered  him  a  ready  resource,  as  his 
father  had  just  been  elected  Governor. 
Democratic  sentiments  were  gaining  the 
ascendency  under  the  influence  of  Jack- 
son, and  to  this  cause  young  Pierce  de- 
voted himself.    In  1829,  and  for  three 


successive  years,  he  was  elected  to  the 
legislature  of  his  State,  as  representa- 
tive of  Hillsborough,  filling  in  1832  and 
1833  the  office  of  Speaker.  In  the  last 
year  he  was  chosen  a  member  of  Con- 
gress, taking  his  seat  in  the  House  of  Re- 
presentatives at  Washington,  in  Decem- 
ber. He  was  again  elected  and  served  a 
second  term.  He  was  of  course  a  steady, 
unflinching  supporter  of  the  administra- 
tion, for  the  democratic  rule  of  those 
days  admitted  no  other — not  a  frequent, 
or  long,  or  eloquent  speaker,  but  a  zeal- 
ous, persistent  committee  man,  giving 
his  vote  for  the  measures  of  his  chief, 
seconding  the  views  of  the  South,  and, 
a  decided  man  generally  in  his  party 
relations. 

In  1837  he  left  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives for  the  Senate  of  the  United 
States,  where  he  was  the  youngest 
member  of  that  body.  His  term  of  ser- 
vice embraced  the  whole  of  Mr.  Yan 
Buren's  administration  and  a  portion 
of  that  of  his  successor,  during  which 
his  services  to  his  party  were  resolute 
and  unintermitted.  They  were  not  for- 
gotten when  an  opportunity  subse 
quently  arose  to  confer  upon  him  the 
highest  reward.  He  retired  from  pub- 
lic life  at  the  end  of  the  period  for 
which  he  was  elected,  having  his  resi- 
dence now  at  Concord,  in  his  native 
State.  He  had  been  for  some  time 
married  to  a  daughter  of  the  Rev,  Dr, 
Appleton,  once  President  of  Bowdoin; 
his  father  was  now  dead;  f  nd  his  do- 
mestic affairs  required  his  care  at  home. 
Thither  he  retired  to  devote  himself  as- 
siduously to  his  profession.  His  suc- 
cess was  immediately  assured,  his  prac- 
tice at  the  bar  yielding  him  a  very 


FRANKLIN  PIERCE. 


335 


handsome  income.  In  proof  of  liis  con- 
tentment and  tlie  sincerity  of  liis  wishes 
for  retirement,  lie  declined  in  1845  an 
a})pointment  by  tlie  Governor  to  the 
United  States  Senate  to  fill  the  place 
vacated  by  Judge  Woodbur}^,  and  a 
jH'oifer  by  the  Democracy  of  his  State 
of  a  nomination  as  Governor;  refusins; 
also  in  the  following  year  a  seat  in  the 
cabinet  of  President  Polk  as  Attorney- 
General.  He  held  meanwhile  the  post, 
at  home,  of  District  Attorney  of  New 
Hampshire. 

His  reluctance  to  engage  in  public 
life  at  Washington  partly  proceeded 
from  his  professional  duties  in  his  own 
State  and  partly  from  the  health  of  his 
wife,  to  which  the  climate  of  the  seat 
of  government  was  unfavorable.  In  his 
letter  to  President  Polk,  dated  Septem- 
ber 6,  1S46,  declining  the  position  of 
Attorney-General,  he  made  use  of  this 
expression :  "  When  I  resigned  my  seat 
in  the  senate  in- 1842,  I  did  it  with  the 
fixed  purpose  never  again  to  be  volun- 
tarily separated  from  my  family,  for 
any  considerable  length  of  time,  except 
at  the  call  of  my  country  in  time  of 
war."  The  reservation,  looking  to  the 
date,  was  not  without  its  significance. 
General  Taylor  had  in  May  fought  the 
battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la 
Palma,  and  it  was  evident  that  more 
serious  struggles,  which  would  call  out 
a  new  military  force,  were  impending. 
Congress  was  slow  to  admit  the  neces- 
sity in  making  provision  for  the  addi- 
tional force,  but  when  the  time  came 
and  the  bill  creating  ten  new  regiments 
was  passed,  Franklin  Pierce  was  looked 
to  and  created  by  the  President  a 
brigadier-general,  his  commission  being 


dated  March  3,  1847.  He  had  pre- 
viously enrolled  his  name  on  the  fiist 
list  of  volunteers  at  Concord  as  a  pri- 
vate soldier.  He  considered  his  accep- 
tance of  the  duty  a  fulfillment  of  his 
pledge  on  taking  leave  of  the  Senate. 
The  old  military  spirit  of  two  wars  in 
which  his  father  and  brothers  had  taken 
part  again  lived  in  the  family. 

The  brigade  of  which  he  was  placed 
in  command  consisted  of  twenty-five 
hundred  men,  composed  of  the  ninth 
regiment  of  New  Englanders,  the  twelfth 
from  the  south-western  States,  and  the 
fifteenth  from  the  north  and  west. 
They  were  to  assemble  at  Vera  Cruz, 
and  join  the  forces  of  General  Scott  on 
his  march  to  the  capital  General  Pierce 
sailed  from  Nev/port  on  the  27th  of 
May,  with  a  portion  of  the  New  Eng- 
land regiment;  the  voyage  was  calm 
and  consequently  long ;  bringing  the  pas- 
sengers to  the  rendezvous  at  the  most 
unhealthy  season  of  the  year.  As  the 
vomito  then  prevailed  at  Vera  Cruz, 
the  prospect  of  landing  new  recruits 
was  anything  but  a  happy  one.  It  was 
the  work  before  the  new  general,  how- 
ever, and  he  courageously  faced  it.  The 
portions  of  his  Diary  published  by  his 
biographer,  show  the  full  extent  of  the 
difiiculties  which  he  encountered,  and 
which  were  met  by  him  with  manly 
resolution.  Avoiding  the  city,  he  sta- 
tioned his  men  on  an  extensive  sand 
beach  in  the  vicinity,  where  they  would 
at  least  have  the  benefit  of  a  free  circu- 
lation of  air.  It  was  the  beo;innino:  of 
July,  and  no  means  were  at  hand  to 
expedite  the  departure  for  the  interior. 
A  large  number  of  wild  mules  had  been 
collected,  but,  inferior  as  they  were  for 


336 


FRANKLIN  PIERCE. 


purposes  of  transportation,  they  were  so 
ill  provided  witli  proper  attendants  that 
most  of  them  broke  away  in  a  stam- 
pede.   "The  Mexicans  fully  believe," 
is  the  language  of  the  journal  of  June 
28,  "that  most  of  my  command  must 
die  of  vomito  before  I  can  be  prepared 
to  march  into  the  interior."    A  delay 
of  but  a  day  or  two  was  expected ;  it 
was  now  running  into  weeks.  Then 
he  records  the  services  of  Major  Woods, 
a  West  Point  officer  "  of  great  intelli- 
gence, experience,  and  coolness,  who 
kindly  consented  to  act  as  my  adjutant- 
general."    There  is  a  serious  case  of 
vomito  in  the  camp,  Captain  Duff,  who 
is  sent  to  the  hospital  in  the  city.  At 
leno-th,  after  three  weeks  on  the  shore, 
the  advance  is  sent  o&,  and  a  few  days 
after  the  general  himself  follows.    It  is 
not  an  easy  road  to  travel.     The  great 
battles  of  the  previous  expeditions  had 
cleared  the  road  of  extensive  fortifica- 
tions, but  left  it  free  to  be  assailed  by 
straggling  parties  of  guerillas,  of  whom 
General  Pierce  and  his  men  are  to  have 
a  taste  as  they  carry  their  train  of  men 
and  munitions  to  the  main  army  at 
Puebla.  He  was  twice  attacked  on  the 
route,  on  leaving  San  Juan,  when  both 
sides  of  the  road  were  beset  by  the 
Mexicans,  and  again  at  the  National 
Bridge,  where  a  formidable  effort  was 
made  to  arrest  his  progress.    The  ene- 
my had  erected  a  barricade  at  the 
bridge,  and  manned  a  temporary  breast- 
work on  a  high  commanding  bluff 
above.   General  Pierce,  looking  around 
for  means  of  annoyance  to  cover  his 
advance,  found  a  position  for  several 
pieces  of  cannon,  but  the  main  advan- 
tage was  gained  by  a  portion  of  his 


command  in  charging  the  defences  at 
the  bridge  and  gaining  the  enemy's 
works  from  the  rear.    In  this  engage- 
ment, which  seems  to  have  been  well 
managed  in  securing  the  speedy  retreat 
of  the  Mexicans,  General  Pierce  was 
under  fire,  and  received  an  escopette 
ball  through  the  rim  of  his  hat,  without, 
however,  other  damage,  as  he  adds  in 
his  journal,  "than  leaving  my  head  for 
a  short  time  without  protection  from 
the  sun."    The  train  thus  relieved  ad- 
vanced to  the  Plan  del  Rio,  where  the 
bridge,  a  work  of  the  old  Spaniards, 
was  found  to  be  destroyed.    Its  main 
arch,  a  span  of  about  sixty  feet,  was 
blown  up.    Below  yawned  a  gulf  of  a 
hundred  feet.    The  bank  in  the  neigh- 
borhood appeared  impassable  for  wa- 
gons. In  this  emergency  General  Pierce 
called  upon  one  of  his  New  England 
officers.  Captain  Bodfish,  of  the  Ninth 
Infantry,  who  "  had  been  engaged  for 
many  years  in  the  lumber  business,  and 
accustomed  to  the  construction  of  roads 
in  the  wild  and  mountainous  districts 
of  Maine,  and  was,  withal,  a  man  not 
lightly  to  be  checked  by  slight  ob- 
stacles in  the  accomplishment  of  an  en- 
terprise,"   This  enterprising  officer  had 
by  no  means  the  resources  of  Maine  at 
his  command,  for  there  was  no  timber 
in  the  vicinity ;  but  the  road  was  con- 
structed, nevertheless,  and  the  train 
passed  in  safety  over  it.    After  this 
there  were  no  extraordinary  difficulties 
to  be  overcome,  and  General  Pierce,  on 
the  seventh  of  August,  reached  the  head 
quarters  of  General  Scott  at  Puebla, 
with  his  brigade,  which,  after  undergo- 
ing some  changes  on  the  way  at  Perote, 
consisted  of  some  twenty-four  hundred 


FRANKLIN  PIERCE. 


337 


men.  The  c;uerillas  who  infested  Lis 
path  had  not  succeeded  in  capturing  a 
sino'le  waffon. 

With  this  reenforcement  General 
Scott  immediately  began  his  advance 
to  the  valley  of  Mexico.  In  the  first 
action,  that  at  the  heights  of  Contreras, 
where  the  enemy's  works,  having  been 
approached  with  difiiculty,  were  suc- 
cessfully stormed  with  great  gallantry. 
General  Pierce  was  in  command  at  the 
outset  in  the  attack  upon  the  front  of 
the  intrenchments.  It  was  a  duty  of 
peculiar  toil  and  hazard.  The  ground, 
the  famous  pedregal,  was  a  broken, 
roclcy  surface,  impracticable  for  cavaliy 
and  harassing  for  infantry.  General 
Pierce  was  the  only  mounted  officer  in 
the  brigade,  and,  as  he  was  pressing  to 
the  head  of  his  column,  after  addressing 
the  colonels  and  captains  of  his  regi- 
ment as  they  passed  by  him,  his  horse 
slipped  among  the  rocks  and  fell,  crush- 
ing his  rider  in  the  fall.  This  was  the 
first  of  a  series  of  disasters  which 
weighed  heavily  upon  General  Piei'ce 
throuo;h  the  remainder  of  the  brief  cam- 
paign,  but  which  his  energy  and  spirit 
enabled  him  in  a  considerable  measure 
to  overcome.  He  was  at  first  stunned 
by  the  fall  with  the  horse,  but  recover- 
ing his  consciousness,  was  hurried  on  in 
the  battle,  having  been  assisted  to  a 
seat  in  the  saddle.  When  told  that  he 
would  not  be  able  to  keep  his  seat, 
"  Then,"  said  he,  "  you  must  tie  me  on." 
He  lay  that  night  writhing  in  pain 
from  his  wounded  knee,  on  an  ammu- 
nition wagon,  to  be  mounted  again  the 
next  morning,  the  decisive  day  at  Con- 
treras, and  was  enabled  to  hold  his 
position  and  lead  his  brigade  in  pur- 


suit. In  the  course  of  this  duty  he  was 
summoned  to  the  commander-in-chief, 
who  perceived  at  once  his  shattered 
condition.  "Pierce,  my  dear  felloAv," 
said  the  veteran  kindly,  "  you  are  l)adly 
injured;  you  are  not  fit  to  be  in  the 
saddle."  "  Yes,  general,  I  am,"  replied 
Pierce,  "in  a  case  like  this."  "You 
cannot  touch  your  foot  to  the  stirrup," 
said  Scott.  "  One  of  them  I  can,"  an- 
swered Pierce.  The  general,  says  the 
authentic  narrative  before  us,  looked 
ao;ain  at  Pierce's  almost  disabled  fiOTre, 
and  seemed  on  the  point  of  taking  his 
irrevocable  resolution.  "  You  are  rash, 
General  Pierce,"  said  he ;  "  we  shall  lose 
you,  and  we  cannot  spare  you.  It  is 
my  duty  to  order  you  back  to  St.  An- 
gustin."  "For  God's  sake,  general," 
exclaimed  Pierce,  "  don't  say  that ! 
This  is  the  last  great  battle,  and  I  must 
lead  my  brigade  !"  The  commander-in- 
chief  made  no  further  remonstrance, 
but  gave  the  order  for  Pierce  to  ad- 
vance with  his  brigade.  The  sequel 
may  best  be  told  in  his  biographer, 
Mr.  Hawthorne's,  interesting  narrative. 
"  The  way  lay  through  thick,  standing 
corn,  and  over  marshy  ground,  inter- 
cepted with  ditches,  which  were  filled, 
or  partially  so,  with  water.  Over  some 
of  the  narrower  of  these  Pierce  leaped 
his  horse.  When  the  brigade  had  ad- 
vanced about  a  mile,  however,  it  found 
itself  impeded  by  a  ditch  ten  or  twelve 
feet  wide,  and  six  or  eight  feet  deep. 
It  being  impossible  to  leap  it,  General 
Pierce  was  lifted  from  his  saddle,  and 
in  some  incomprehensible  way,  hurt  as 
he  was,  contrived  to  wade  or  scramble 
across  this  obstacle,  leaving  his  horse 
on  the  hither  side.    The  troops  were 


FRANKLIN  PIERCE. 


now  under  fire.  In  the  excitement  of 
the  battle  lie  forgot  liis  injury  and  Imr- 
ried  forward,  leading  tlie  brigade  a  dis- 
tance of  two  or  three  hundred  yards. 
But  the  exhaustion  of  his  frame,  and 
particularly  the  anguish  of  his  knee — 
made  more  intolerable  by  such  free  use 
of  it — was  greater  than  any  strength  of 
nerve,  or  any  degree  of  mental  energy 
could  strufjo;le  against.  He  fell,  faint 
and  almost  insensible,  within  full  range 
of  the  enemy's  fire.  It  was  proposed 
to  bear  him  off  the  field;  but,  as  some 
of  his  soldiers  approached  to  lift  him, 
h(}  became  aware  of  their  purpose,  and 
was  partially  revived  by  his  determina- 
tion to  resist  it.  "  No,"  said  he,  with 
all  the  strenscth  he  had  left,  "  don't 
carry  me  off !  let  me  lie  here  !"  And 
there  he  lay  under  the  tremendous  fire 
of  Cherubusco,  until  the  enemy,  in  total 
rout,  was  driven  from  the  field."  In 
the  negotiations  which  immediately  en- 
sued, Greneral  Pierce  was  honored  by 
the  commander-in-chief  with  the  ap- 
pointment of  one  of  the  commissioners 
to  arrange  the  terms  of  the  armistice. 
Jaded  and  worn  out  as  he  vv'as,  having 
been  two  nights  without  sleep  and  un- 
able to  move  without  assistance,  he  at- 
tended to  this  duty  before  seeking  repose. 

In  the  subsequent  action  of  the  cam- 
paign, at  the  battle  of  Molino  del  Rey,  he 
rendered  an  important  service  to  General 
"Worth  at  the  close  of  that  bloody  fight, 
in  interposing  to  receive  the  fire  of  the 
enemy,  and,  the  victory  having  been 
gained,  occupied  the  field.  He  would 
have  been  prominently  engaged  in  the 
sequel  to  this  battle,  the  storming  of 
Ohapultepec,  but  he  had  now  become 
60  ill  as  to  be  compelled  to  seek  relief 


at  the  head-quai'ters  of  General  Worth, 
where  he  remained  when  this  conclud- 
ing action  of  the  war  was  fought.  He 
rose,  however,  from  his  sick  couch  to 
repoi-t  himself  to  General  Quitman, 
ready  to  take  part  in  the  final  assault 
upon  the  city;  but  this  peiilous  duty 
was  happily  spared  him  by  the  timely 
capitulation. 

On  his  return  to  the  United  States 
at  the  close  of  1847,  General  Pierce 
having  resigned  his  commission  at 
Washington,  was  received  at  Concord, 
in  his  native  State,  with  the  utmost  en- 
thusiasm. Welcomed  to  the  town  hall 
in  a  complimentary  speech  by  General 
Low,  he  replied  in  an  address  of  great 
propriety,  skillfully  turning  the  occasion 
to  the  praises  of  his  comrades  in  the 
Vi^ar.  He  spoke  of  the  New  England 
regiment  in  general,  of  its  sacrifices  and 
deeds  of  honor,  and  particularly  of  the 
brave  men  who  had  fallen  on  the  field. 
He  also  paid  a  well-deserved  compli- 
ment to  the  officers  furnished  to  the 
war  by  the  Military  Academy  at  West 
Point,  a  tribute  which  came  with  more 
emphasis  from  his  lips,  as  in  former 
days  in  Congress  he  had  opposed  the 
usual  annual  appropriation  for  that  in- 
stitution. In  recognition  of  his  services, 
he  was  shortly  after  presented  with  a 
sword  by  the  legislature  of  New  Hamp- 
shire. 

General  Pierce  now  passed  into  re- 
tirement and  was  again  engaged  in  the 
practice  of  his  profession.  He  took 
part,  however,  in  the  political  affairs  of 
his  party,  particularly  in  the  canvass 
of  1848  when  General  Cass  was  a  can- 
didate for  the  Presidency.  The  Demo- 
cratic party  then  suffered  a  defeat,  but 


FRANKLIN  PIERCE. 


339 


rallied  again  for  action  in  1852,  when 
General  Pierce  was  put  in  nomination 
for  tliat  high  office.    Previously  to  this 
election  his  position  was  strengthened 
in  New  Hampshire  by  his  election  as 
President  of  the  convention  for  the  re- 
vision of  the  State  constitution,  and  as 
the  time  for  the  choice  of  a  new  Presi- 
dent of  the  Union  approached  he  was  put 
forward  by  the  democracy  of  the  State 
as  a  suitable  candidate.  The  nominatino- 
convention  of  his  party  met  at  Balti- 
more in  June,  1852;  there  was  some 
difficulty  in  deciding  upon  a  candidate, 
and  several  days  had  passed  in  the  dis- 
cussion, when  General  Pierce  was  brought 
forward  by  the  Virginia  delegation  on 
the  thii'ty-sixth  ballot.     His  strength 
continued  to  increase  as  the  contest  was 
carried  on,  till,  on  the  forty-ninth  bal- 
lot, he  received  two  hundred  and  eighty- 
two  out  of  the  two  hundred  and  ninety- 
three  votes  cast.    In  the  election  which 
followed,  he  was  chosen  over  General 
Scott,  the  candidate  of  the  Whig  party, 
by  a  popular  majority  of  two  hundred 
and  three  thousand,  three  hundred  and 
six,  their  joint  votes  being  two  millions, 
nine  hundred  and  eighty-nine  thousand, 
four  hundred  and  eighty-four.    He  had 
the  electoral  votes  of  all  the  States  ex- 
cepting Vermont,  Massachusetts,  Ken- 
tucky and  Tennessee. 


The  Presidential  administration  of 
General  Pierce  from  1853  to  1857, 
when  he  was  succeeded  by  James  Bu- 
chanan, was  an  interval  of  comparative 
repose,  marked  by  no  extraordinary 
events  of  foreign  or  domestic  policy, 
with  the  exception  of  the  revival  of 
the  slavery  agitation  in  the  passage 
of  the  Kansas  and  Nebraska  Terri- 
torial act  in  1854,  setting  aside  the 
geographical  limit  imposed  by  the 
compromise  of  1850.  In  the  late  Go- 
vernor Marcy,  President  Pierce  had 
the  services  of  a  Secretary  of  State 
of  eminent  ability,  who  conducted  the 
foreign  affairs  of  the  government  with 
firmness  and  discretion.  Among  the 
home  incidents  of  the  time  may  be 
mentioned  the  erection  of  a  Crystal 
Palace  at  New  York,  following  the  ex- 
ample of  the  previous  great  fair  at  Lon- 
don, for  the  exhibition  of  the  industry 
of  all  nations.  This  undertaking,  which 
was  brilliantly  carried  out,  was  inaugu- 
rated by  President  Pierce  in  July, 
1853,  shortly  after  the  commencement 
of  his  administration.  After  the  close 
of  his  Presidential  term,  General  Pierce 
visited  the  island  of  Madeira  and  made 
a  prolonged  tour  in  Europe.  On  his 
return  tc  America,  he  again  took  up  his 
residence  in  his  old  home  at  Concord, 
New  Hampshire. 


ANDREW   HULL  FOOTE. 


Andrew  Hull  Foote  was  born  in 
New  Haven,  Conn.,  September  12, 1806. 
His  father,  Samnel  A.  Foote,  is  known 
in  the  political  history  of  the  country, 
as  the  mover  of  the  resolution  in  the 
United  States  Senate  on  the  Public 
Lands,  which  gave  occasion  to  the  cele- 
brated debate  on  the  principles  of  nul- 
lification between  Daniel  Webster  and 
Robert  Y.  Hayne,  of  South  Carolina. 
He  was  also  Governor  of  Connecticut. 
The  son  entered  the  navy  at  the  age  of 
sixteen,  as  acting  midshipman,  making 
his  first  cruise  in  the  schooner  Grampus, 
which  was  attached  to  the  squadron  of 
Commodore  Porter,  sent  out  in  1823, 
to  cruise  among  the  West  India  islands, 
for  the  suppression  of  piracy  in  those 
waters.    The  service  was  a  peculiar 
one,  requiring  the  foe  to  be  followed 
in  shallow  waters,  and  employing  many 
an  adventurous  boat  party  in  close  con- 
flict with  an  unscrupulous  enemy.  In 
this  warfare  young  Foote  learnt  his 
first  lesson  of  maritime  skill  and  daring. 
The  next  year  he  obtained  his  warrant 
as  midshipman,  when  he  passed  three 
years  with  Commodore  Hull  on  the 
Pacific  station.    On  his  return  to  the 
United  States  he  served  in  the  West 
India  squadron,  as  master  of  the  sloop- 
of-war  Hornet,  and  the  same  year  be- 
came passed  midshipman.    A  second 

840 


three  years'  cruise  in  the  Pacific  sue 
ceeded,  when  in  1830  he  was  com- 
missioned lieutenant.    In  1833,  he  was 
flag-lieutenant   of  the  Mediterranean 
squadron,  on  board  Commodore  Patter- 
son's flag-ship,  the   Delaware.  The 
ship  cruising  in  the  Levant,  Lieutenant 
Foote  was  one  of  a  party  which,  obtain- 
ing leave  of  absence,  made  the  tour  of 
the  Holy  Land,  visiting  Jerusalem,  the 
Dead  Sea,  and  other  spots  memorable 
in  the  scripture  narrative.    In  1838  we 
find  him  first-lieutenant  of  the  sloop-of- 
war  John  Adams,  sailing  round  the 
globe  with  Commodore  Read.    In  this 
extended  voyaging  he  was  engaged  in 
an  attack  on  certain  towns  of  the  island 
of  Sumatra,  whose  natives  had  mur- 
dered the  captain  of  an  American  mer- 
chantman. He  was  also  engaged  in  the 
more  grateful  duty  to  a  man  of  his  dis- 
position of  rendering  assistance  to  the 
American  missionaries   of  Honolulu, 
who  had  suffered  some  persecution  from 
the  French  naval  commander  on  the 
station.    From  1841  to  1843  he  was 
on  duty  at  the  Naval  Asylum,  at  Phila- 
delphia, where  he  was  zealously  en- 
gaged in  promoting  the  cause  of  tem- 
perance among  its  sailor  inmates.  In 
his  next  cruise,  in  the  year  last  men- 
tioned,  as  first-lieutenant  with  Cap- 
tain Breese,  of  the  Cumberland,  he  still 


ANDREW   HULL  FOOTE. 


341 


furtlier  endeavoi-ed  to  cany  out  Lis 
temperance  principles  on  tlie  liigli  seas, 
and  succeeded  in  persuading  the' crew 
to  dispense  Avitli  tlie  spirit  ration,  estab- 
lisliiuo-  at  tlie  same  time  a  reliirious  ser- 
rice  in  wLicli  lie  officiated,  preacliing  to 
and  praying  Avitli  tlie  men.  On  liis  re- 
turn home  m  1845,  he  was  employed 
for  sevei'al  years  at  the  navy  yard  at 
Charlestown,  Mass.,  after  which,  in  1849, 
he  was  assigned  to  the  command  of  the 
brig  Perry,  and  ordered  to  the  coast  of 
Africa  to  join  the  squadron  stationed 
there,  in  accordance  with  the  treaty 
with  Great  Britain  to  enforce  the  laws 
of  the  two  countries  for  the  suppression 
of  the  slave  trade.  Of  this  cruise, 
which  occupied  the  next  two  years, 
and  which  was  eminently  successful  in 
the  objects  of  the  mission.  Commander 
Foote,  in  1854,  published  an  ample 
narrative,  with  incidental  discussions  on 
slavery,  its  history  and  morality,  a  par- 
ticular account  of  Liberia,  and  a  -plea, 
for  colonization  and  protection  of  the 
African  race,  in  a  volume  entitled 
"  Africa  and  the  American  Flag;." 

His  next  cruise,  on  the  China  station 
in  command  of  the  sloop-of  war  Ports- 
mouth, is  memorable  for  his  prompt 
vindication  of  the  American  flas;  in 
the  attack  upon  the  Barrier  Forts 
in  the  harbor  of  Canton.  It  was 
on  the  eve  of  the  war  between  the 
English  and  Chinese,  when  in  view 
of  the  unsettled  state  of  affairs,  it  was 
necessary  to  afford  timely  protection  to 
American  interests.  In  the  discharge 
of  this  duty  Commander  Foote  was 
fired  upon  in  his  boat  in  the  Can- 
ton waters,  and  for  this  outrage  urged 
Commodore  Armstrong,  in  command 
II. — 43 


of  the  American  squadron,  to  an  attack 
upon  the  forts.  The  Portsmouth,  as- 
sisted by  the  Levant,  was  ordered  to 
this  duty.  The  two  ships  gallantly 
approached  the  forts,  four  in  number, 
and  after  a  vigorous  bombardment,  a 
storming  party  was  formed  which  landed 
and  gallantly  captured  the  works.  After 
visiting  Siam  and  Japan,  and  other  places 
of  interest.  Commander  Foote  returned 
to  the  United  States  in  1858,  when  he 
was  assigned  to  the  charge  of  the  navj 
yard  at  New  York. 

There  he  was  stationed  at  the  out- 
break of  the  Southern  rebellion,  which 
brought  him  into  active  service  in  a 
new  sphere  of  duty.  Promoted  to  a 
captaincy  in  July,  1861,  in  September 
he  was  ordered  to  the  command  of  the 
river  flotilla,  or  fleet  building  on  the 
Ohio,  to  operate  against  the  reljcls,  and 
effect  the  re-opening  of  the  navigation 
of  the  Mississippi.  With  his  customary 
energy  he  entered  upon  this  new  career, 
hastening  the  work  of  preparation  of 
the  flotilla,  which  he  brought  nobly 
into  action  in  the  successful  attack 
upon  Fort  Henry,  on  the  Tennessee,  on 
the  sixth  of  February,  1862.  Taking 
the  lead  in  the  flag-ship,  Cincinnati,  fol- 
lowed by  the  Essex  and  other  gunboats 
of  the  squadron,  the  fort  Gu  the  river 
bank  was  attacked  at  short  range,  and 
after  a  severe  and  closely-contested  action 
of  one  hour  and  fifteen  minutes,  was 
compelled  to  surrender  to  the  navy  alone, 
the  cooperating  land  forces  not  being  in 
time  for  the  conflict.  Returning  to 
Cairo  to  refit  in  haste  for  further  opera- 
tions, the  next  Sunday  found  Captain 
Foote  in  the  pulpit  of  the  Presbyterian 
church  of  that  place,  preaching  an  ex- 


342 


ANDREW   HULL  FOOTE. 


cellent  sermon  in  tlie  absence  of  tlie 
pastor,  and  offering  humlole  and  hearty 
thanks  for  his  victory. 

The  capture   of  Fort   Henry  was 
speedily  followed  on  the  fourteenth,  by 
the  attack  upon  Fort  Donelson,  on  the 
Cumberland,  by  the  gunboats  under 
Captain  Foote,  in  cooperation  with  the 
investment  by  land,  of  General  Grant. 
In  this    action   Captain  Foote  was 
vrounded  in  the  ankle,  a  painful  and 
annoying  injury  which  brought  him  to 
the  use  of  crutches,  but  which  he  did 
not  permit  to  disable  him  from  active 
duty.    Hastening  to  the  Mississippi, 
he  advanced  to  the  siege  and  capture 
of  Island  No.  X,  through  the  months  of 
March  and  April,  directing  with  wonted 
energy  and  perseverance  the  naval  ope- 
rations of  the  flotilla,  which  materially 
assisted  the  army  in  the  reduction  of 
that  stronghold.    In  the  midst  of  the 
bombardment  with  which  the  siege 
commenced.  Captain  Foote  received,  on 
the  deck  of  his  flag-ship  the  Benton, 
the  news  of  the  death  of  his  second 
son,  a  promising  youth  of  thirteen, 
which  occurred  at  the  family  residence, 
at  New  Haven.    The  island  having 
fallen,  and  the  success  of  the  naval 
movements  on  the  Mississippi  being  as- 
sured. Captain  Foote,  still  suffering 
from  his  wound,  was  relieved  from 
duty  and  returned  home  to  recruit  his 
shattered  health.    At  the  suggestion 
of  President  Lincoln,  a  joint  resolution 
was  passed  by  Congress,  thanking  Cap- 


tain Foote  for  his  eminent  services  and 
gallantry  at  Fort  Henry,  Fort  Donelson, 
and  Island  No.  X.  He  also  received 
the  commission  of  Rear  Admiral,  the 
highest  rank  in  the  service  under  the 
new  act  of  July,  regulating  the  grade 
of  line  officers  of  the  Navy. 

On  partially  recovering  his  strength, 
Eear  Admiral  Foote  was  employed  as 
Chief  of  the  Bureau  of  Equipment  and 
Recruiting,  and  his  health  being  ap- 
parently established,  in  June,  1863,  was 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  South 
Atlantic  Blockading  Squadron,  charged 
with  the  operations  against  Charleston 
and  other  points  of  that  department. 
He  was  on  his  way  to  this  honorable 
post  of  duty  when  he  was  taken  ill  at 
the  city  of  New  York,  of  a  disease  of 
the  kidneys,  and  after  a  short,  and 
severe  illness,  died  at  the  Astor  House, 
June  26th.    His  remains  were  taken 
to  New  Haven,  where,  in  the  public 
funeral  services  every  honor  was  paid 
his  memory.    The  Secretary  of  the 
Navy,  the  Hon.  Gideon  Welles,  in  a 
general  order  from  the  Navy  Depart- 
ment, expressed  the  feeling  of  the 
nation  of  his  worth.    "  Among  the  no- 
ble and  honored  dead,"  was  its  lan- 
guage, "  whose  names  have  added  lus- 
tre to  our  naval  renown,  and  must  ever 
adorn  our  national  annals,  few  will 
stand  more  prominent  than  that  of  the 
gallant  and   self-sacrificing  Christian 
sailor  and  gentleman  whose  loss  we 
now  deplore." 


JAMES  BUCHANAN. 


James  BucHAisrAij-,  tlie  fifteenth  Pre- 
sident of  the  United  States,  was  born 
in  Franklin  County,  Pennsylvania,  at  a 
spot  called  Stony  Batter,  April  22, 
1791.    His  father,  of  the  same  name, 
was  an  emigrant  to  the  United  States 
from  the  county  of  Donegal,  Ireland,  the 
very  year  which  closed  the  war  of  the 
Revolution  with  the   declaration  of 
peace.    He  married,  in  his  new  home 
in  Pennsylvania,  Miss  Elizabeth  Spear, 
the  daughter  of  a  farmer  of  Adams 
County,  in  the  State.   James  Buchanan, 
the  elder,  became  a  thriving  man,  plac- 
ing his  son  on  the  first  stage  of  his  fu- 
ture advancement  by  providing  him  a 
collegiate  education.    The  youth  was 
entered  at  Dickinson  College,  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  graduated  from  that  institu- 
tion m  1809,  at  the  age  of  seventeen, 
with  credit.    He  then  immediately  be- 
gan the  study  of  the  law,  with  Mr. 
James  Hopkins,  of  Lancaster,  and  was 
admitted  to  practice  in  1812.    He  con- 
tinued for  nearly  thirty  years  assidu- 
ously devoted  to  the  profession,  reaping 
a  fair  share  of  its  pecuniary  rewards. 

His  first  entrance  upon  political  life 
was  at  the  age  of  twenty-three,  when 
he  became  a  member  of  the  Pennsylva- 
nia Legislature.  It  was  the  last  year 
of  the  war  with  England,  of  which, 
from  the  outset,  he  had  been  an  earnest 

343 


advocate,  carrying  his  zeal  so  far  as  to 
march  as  a  private  soldier  in  a  company 
organized  at  Lancaster  to  proceed  to 
the  defence  of  Baltimore,  when  Wash- 
ington had  been  invaded  by  the  enemy. 
The  company  actually  made  their  way 
to  Baltimore,  where  they  were  dis- 
charged, the  occasion  for  their  services 
having  passed  by.  He  was  an  active 
supporter  of  war  measures  in  the  legis- 
lature of  his  State,  counselling  stringent 
means  of  defence,  and  advocatins;  a  loan 
to  the  United  States  to  pay  the  militia 
of  the  State  called  into  the  public  ser- 
vice. 

In  1820,  Mr.  Buchanan  took  his  seat 
in  the  House  of  Representatives,  and 
continued  a  member  by  successive  re- 
elections,  for  ten  years.    This  period 
embraced  many  important  public  mea- 
sures, in  which  he  took  a  prominent, 
part.    He  was  opposed  to  a  tariff  for 
protection,  and  to  a  general  bankrupt 
law;  when  John  Quincy  Adams  was 
elected,  he  opposed  his  favorite  project 
of  the  Panama  mission,  and  gave  his 
zealous  support  to  the  advancement  of 
G-eneral  Jackson.    On  that  chieftain's 
election  to  the  Presidency,  which  was 
promoted  by  his  influence  in  Pennsyl- 
vania, he  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
Judiciary  committee,  and  was  one  of 
the  five  managers  chosen  by  the  House 


344: 


JAMES  BUCHANAN. 


to  conduct  tte  prosecution  of  Judge 
James  H.  Peck,  of  tlie  District  Court 
of  tlie  United  States  for  Missouri, 
against  whom  articles  of  impeacliment 
were  passed  for  an  undue  exercise  of 
authority,  in  silencing  and  imprisoning 
a  lawyer  in  his  court,  who  had  presumed 
to  criticise  one  of  his  decisions.  Judge 
Peck  was  defended  before  the  Senate 
by  William  Wirt  and  Jonathan  Meri- 
deth.  The  case  was  closed  by  Mr. 
Buchanan.  The  result  was  the  pas- 
sage of  a  law  calculated  to  prevent  a 
recurrence  of  the  offence. 

In  1831,  Mr.  Buchanan  received  the 
appointment  from  President  Jackson  of 
Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Minister  Ple- 
nipotentiary to  St.  Petersburg,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  the  object  of  his  mission  in 
securing  a  valuable  commercial  treaty, 
opening  to  our  merchants  important 
privileges  in  the  Kussian  waters.  On 
his  return,  in  1833,  he  was  elected  to 
the  United  States  Senate,  where  he 
rendered  important  partisan  services  to 
the  administration  of  General  Jackson, 
then  closely  pressed  in  that  body  by  a 
combination  of  its  greatest  political 
leaders,  Clay,  Calhoun,  and  Webster. 
He  was  always  opposed  to  the  agitation 
of  the  subject  of  slavery  in  Congress, 
regarding  the  discussion  of  the  topic  at 
the  North  as  alike  injurious  to  the  pros- 
pects of  the  slave  and  the  integrity  of 
the  Union.  These  were  his  views  when 
the  right  of  petition  brought  the  dis- 
cussion before  Congress,  and  he  re- 
mained steadily  on  the  side  of  the  South 
in  all  matters  of  this  nature,  where  the 
institution  was  concerned.  An  ardent 
supporter  of  President  Jackson,  he,  of 
course,  gave  his  influence  in  favor  of 


the  expunging  resolutions  of  Senator 
Benton,  which  crowned  the  long  list  of 
Congressional  triumphs  of  the  retiring 
President.    To  the  administration  of 
his  successor,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  Mr.  Bu- 
chanan gave  important  aid  in  his  advo- 
cacy of  the  establishment  of  an  inde- 
pendent treasury,  and  when  that  mea- 
sure was  temporarily  set  aside  under 
the  presidency  of  General  Harrison  and 
Tyler,  he  was  urgent  in  his  efforts  to 
defeat  the  banks,  or  fiscal  institutions, 
proposed  in  its  place.    On  all  the  test 
questions  of  the  democratic  party,  Mr. 
Buchanan  preserved  political  consist- 
ency.  With  one,  in  particular,  he  espe 
cially  identified  himself — the  Annexa- 
tion of  Texas.    He  was  for  immediate 
action  on  its  first  introduction  into  the 
Senate,  and  when  it  was  afterwards 
adopted,  at  the  close  of  Tyler's  admin- 
istration, he  stood  alone  in  the  commit- 
tee on  foreign  relations  in  favor  of  the 
measure. 

Mr.  Polk  succeeded  to  the  Presidency 
in  1845,  when  Mr.  Buchanan  was  called 
to  his  cabinet  as  Secretary  of  State.  It 
was  an  important  era  in  the  foreign 
relations  of  the  country,  when  the  office 
was  no  sinecure.  The  North-western 
Boundary  question  was  to  be  settled 
with  England,  and  on  the  South-west- 
ern frontier  another  difficulty  of  no 
ordinary  magnitude  existed,  in  the 
threatened  conflict  vnth  Mexico.  The 
former  was  settled  on  a  compromise 
basis,  adopting  the  parallel  of  lati- 
tude of  49°  instead  of  the  ultra  de- 
mand, insisted  upon  by  certain  mem- 
bers of  the  party,  and  advocated  in  an 
elaborate  state  paper  by  Mr.  Buchanan 
himself,  of  54°  40'.    The  Government, 


JAMES  BUCHANAN. 


345 


ill  fact,  had  become  pledged  to  the  lat- 
ter, l)ut  the  difficulty  was  solved  by  re- 
feiriiicr  tlie  matter  to  tlie  Senate,  ^vliere 
the  compromise  line  was  accepted.  The 
Mexican  question  was  of  graver  re- 
sponsibility. It  was  met  by  the  admin- 
istration as  a  war  measure,  and  by  the 
spirit  and  energy  of  the  army  of  the 
country,  and  the  volunteers  called  to 
the  field,  was  successfully  carried 
through,  while  efforts  were  constantly 
made  to  bring  the  contest  to  an  end  by 
negotiations  for  peace.  When  the  en- 
emy was  thoroughly  humbled,  and  his 
capital  gained  possession  of,  the  latter 
finally  prevailed.  It  is  to  the  credit  of 
our  government  that  the  war  was  con- 
ducted in  no  sanguinary  spirit  of  cru- 
elty, and  that  its  terms  of  reconciliation, 
though  they  proved  in  the  end  highly 
advantageous  to  the  victors,  were,  all 
things  considered,  neither  exacting  nor 
humiliating  to  the  conquered. 

At  the  close  of  Mr,  Polk's  Presidency, 
]\Ir.  Buchanan  retired  to  his  home  in 
Pennsylvania,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Lancaster,  where  he  lived  in  compara- 
tive retirement,  till  Mr.  Pierce  coming 
into  office  in  1853,  he  was  appointed 
Minister  to  England.  He  accepted  the 
post  and  was  occupied,  in  the  course  of 
its  duties,  in  a  negotiation  of  the  Cen- 
tral American  question,  and  also,  inci- 
dentally, in  a  discussion  respecting  the 
possession  of  the  island  of  Cuba.  The 
lattei",  known  as  the  Ostend  Conference, 
grew  out  of  the  design  of  the  President 
to  purchase  the  island  if  possible,  from 
Spain,  and  for  this  purpose  a  consulta- 
tion was  had  in  Europe  between  the 
American  Ministers  to  Spain,  France, 
and  England,  who  might  aid  the  under- 


taking by  mutual  counsel.  The  history 
of  this  proceeding  is  thus  given  in  the 
recent  notice  of  President  Buchanan  in 
"  Appleton's  Cyclopedia."  "  Ostend  was 
first  selected  for  the  place  of  meeting ; 
but  the  conferences  were  subsequently 
adjourned  to  Aix  la  Chapelle.  The 
American  Ministers  kept  written  rain- 
utes  of  their  proceedings,  and  of  the 
conclusions  arrived  at,  for  the  purpose 
of  future  reference,  and  for  the  informa- 
tion of  their  government  at  home. 
These  minutes  were  afterwards  styled 
a  'protocol,'  though  they  contained 
nothing  but  memoranda  to  be  for- 
warded for  consideration  to  the  autho- 
rities in  Washington.  They  were  not 
intended  to  be  submitted  to  a  foreign 
power.  They  contained  no  proposition, 
laid  down  no  rule  of  action,  and  in  no 
manner  whatever  interfered  with  our 
regular  diplomatic  intercourse.  The 
President  desired  to  know  the  opinions 
of  our  Ministers  abroad  on  a  subject 
which  deeply  concerned  the  United 
States,  and  the  Ministers  were  bound 
to  furnish  it  to  him.  Their  minutes  ex- 
hibited the  importance  of  the  island  to 
the  United  States,  in  a  commercial  and 
strategical  point  of  view,  the  advan-* 
tages  that  would  accrue  to  Spain  from 
the  sale  of  it  at  a  fair  price,  such  as  the 
United  States  might  be  willing  to  pay 
for  it,  the  difficulty  which  Spain  would 
encounter  in  endeavoring  to  keep  pos- 
session of  it  by  mere  military  power, 
the  sympathy  of  the  people  of  the 
United  States  with  the  inhabitants  of 
the  island,  and,  finally,  the  possibility 
that  Spain,  as  a  last  resort,  might  en- 
deavor to  Africanize  Cuba,  and  become 
instrumental  in  the  reenacting  of  the 


3i6 


JAMES  BrCHANAN. 


scenes  of  St.  Domingo.  The  American 
Ministers  believed  that  in  case  Cuba 
was  about  to  be  transformed  into  an- 
other St.  Domingo,  the  example,  might 
act  perniciously  on  the  slave  population 
of  the  Southern  States  of  our  o^vn  con- 
federacy, and  there  excite  the  blacks  to 
similar  deeds  of  violence.  In  this  case, 
they  held  that  the  instinct  of  self-pre- 
servation would  call  for  the  armed  in- 
tervention of  the  United  States,  and 
we  should  be  justified  in  wresting  the 
island  by  force  from  Spain." 

Mr.  Buchanan  returned  home  in  the 
spring  of  1856,  and  in  the  following 
summer  received  the  nomination  for  the 
Presidency  from  the  Democratic  con- 
vention which  met  at  Cincinnati.  In 
the  contest  which  ensued  with  Colonel 
Fremont,  the  candidate  of  the  new 
Republican  party,  he  was  elected  Pre- 
sident of  the  United  States  by  the  vote 
of  nineteen  out  of  thirty-one  States. 
The  poj)ular  vote  was,  for  Buchanan, 
1,803,029;  for  Fremont,  1,342,164;  for 
Fillmore,  874,625.  The  main  interest 
of  Mr.  Buchanan's  administration  cen- 
tered in  the  discussion  of  the  control 
of  the  territories  in  reference  to  the  in- 
troduction of  Slavery.    The  ominous 


agitations  regarding  Kansas,  itself  the 
theatre  of  bloody  conflict,  employed 
much  of  this  period.  At  the  close 
of  Mr.  Buchanan's  term  the  clouds 
which  had  been  gathering  since  its 
commencement  broke  in  the  storm 
of  war.  The  election  of  his  successor, 
Mr.  Lincoln,  the  candidate  of  the  Re- 
publican party,  was  followed  by  seces- 
sion in  the  Southern  States,  and  there 
was  no  weapon  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Buchanan  powerful  enough  to  arrest 
the  rebellion.  He  spoke  entreatingly, 
persuasively,  in  favor  of  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  Union ;  but  the  South,  whose 
interests  he  had  so  long  served,  was 
deaf  to  his  appeals.  The  crisis  which 
had  arrived  was  destined  to  shatter  his 
political  creed.  Deserted  by  his  old 
friends  in  Congress  and  even  in  his 
cabinet,  he  summoned  to  his  aid  new 
counsellors  like  Scott,  Dix,  Stanton, 
Holt,  and  others  whose  patriotism  re- 
deemed the  last  days  of  his  administra- 
tion. In  weakness,  sorrow,  almost  in 
despair  of  the  future  of  his  country, 
he  assisted  at  the  inauguration  of 
his  successor,  and  left  Washington  for 
the  retirement  of  his  home  in  Penn 
sylvania. 


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Jr^UlSOll.l'iv  %c  'Co.  PllllJlsTlHlfS.l^OTYr.T  !•• 


MILLARD 


FILLMORE. 


The  family  of  Millard  Fillmore  has 
an  honorable  descent  in  American  his- 
tory. Its  records  are  diversified  by 
remarkable  incidents  of  war  and  ad- 
venture. John  Fillmore,  the  great- 
grandfather of  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  and  the  common  ances- 
tor of  all  of  that  name  in  the  United 
States,  was  born  at  Ipswich,  Massachu- 
setts, about  the  beginning  of  the  eight- 
eenth century.  He  is  recollected  as 
the  hero  of  a  brave  and  successful 
struggle  with  certain  pirates  into  whose 
hands  it  was  his  luck  to  fall  in  a  sail- 
ing venture  out  of  Boston.  He  was 
about  nineteen  when  he  sailed  in  a 
fishing  vessel  from  that  port,  and  had 
been  but  a  few  days  at  sea  when  the 
craft  was  captured  by  a  noted  pirate 
ship -commanded  by  one  Captain  Phil- 
lips. Fillmore  became  a  prisoner,  and 
so  continued  on  board  the  ship  for  nine 
months,  steadily  refusing  his  liberty  on 
the  only  condition  on  which  it  would 
be  granted,  to  sign  the  piratical  articles 
of  the  vessel  and  take  part  in  its  for- 
tunes. Though  threatened  with  death, 
he  persisted  in  his  denial,  till  finally, 
two  others  having  been  taken  captive, 
he  joined  with  them  in  an  attack  on 
the  crew ;  several  were  killed ;  the  ves- 
sel was  rescued  and  carried  safely  into 
Boston.    The  surviving  pirates  were 


tried  and  executed,  and  the  captors 
were  honored  by  the  thanks  of  the 
British  government.  Young  Fillmore 
afterwards  settled  in  Connecticut,  where 
he  died.  His  son,  Nathaniel,  was 
an  early  settler  in  the  Hampshire 
Grants,  at  Bennington,  a  frontier  posi- 
tion in  those  days  which,  matter 
of  course,  made  him  a  soldier  in  the 
seven  years'  war  with  France.  He  was 
also  a  gallant  Whig  of  the  Eevolution, 
serving,  when  his  home  became  the  the- 
atre of  hostilities,  as  lieutenant  under 
General  Stark,  in  the  spirited  and  deci- 
sive conflict  at  Bennington.  He  died 
in  1814,  leaving  a  son,  Nathaniel,  who 
early  in  life  migrated  to  what  is  now 
called  Summer  Hill,  in  Cayuga  County, 
New  York,  where  he  followed  the  life 
of  a  farmer.  There  his  son  Millard,  the 
future  President,  was  born,  January  7, 
1800.  The  family  shortly  after  re-* 
moved  to  another  place  in  the  same 
county. 

"  The  narrow  means  of  his  father," 

we  are  told  in  a  narrative  of  these  early 

years,  published  some  years  since  in  the 

"American  Review,"  "  deprived  Millard 

of  any  advantages  of  education  beyond 

what  were  afforded  by  the  imperfect  and 

ill-taught  common  schools  of  the  county. 

Books  were  scarce  and  dear,  and  at  the 

age  of  fifteen,  when  more  favored 

Sir 


348  MIILLARD 

yontlis  are  far  advanced  in  their  classi- 
cal studies,  or  enjoying  in  colleges  the 
benefit  of  well-furnished  libraries,  young 
Fillmore  had  read  but  little  except  his 
common-school  books  and  the  Bible.  At 
that  period  he  was  sent  into  the  then 
wilds  of  Livingston  County  to  learn  the 
clothier's  trade.  He  remained  there 
about  four  months,  and  was  then  placed 
with  another  person  to  pursue  the  same 
business  and  wool-carding,  in  the  town 
of  Sempronius,  now  JSTiles,  where  his 
father  lived.  A  small  village  library 
that  was  formed  there  soon  after,  gave 
him  the  first  means  of  acquiring  gene- 
ral knowledge  through  books.  He  im- 
proved the  opportunity  thus  offered ; 
the  appetite  grew  by  what  it  fed  upon. 
The  thirst  for  knowledge  soon  became 
insatiate,  and  every  leisure  moment  was 
spent  in  reading.  Four  years  were 
passed  in  this  way,  working  at  his 
trade  and  storing  his  mind,  during  such 
hours  as  he  could  command,  with  the 
contents  of  books  of  history,  biography, 
and  travels.  At  the  age  of  nineteen  he 
fortunately  made  an  acquaintance  with 
the  late  Walter  Wood,  Esquire,  whom 
many  will  remember  as  one  of  the  most 
estimable  citizens  of  Cayuga  County. 
Judge  Wood  was  a  man  of  wealth  and 
great  business  capacity ;  he  had  an  ex- 
cellent law  library,  but  did  little  pro- 
fessional business.  He  soon  saw  that 
under  the  rude  exterior  of  the  clothier's 
boy,  were  powers  that  only  required 
proper  development  to  raise  the  posses- 
sor to  high  distinction  and  usefulness, 
and  advised  him  to  quit  his  trade  and 
study  law.  In  reply  to  the  objection 
of  a  lack  of  education,  means  and 
friends  to  aid  him  in  a  course  of  profes- 


FILLMORB. 

sional  study,  Judge  Wood  kindly  ofi'ered 
to  give  him  a  place  in  his  of&ce,  to  ad- 
vance money  to  defray  his  expenses,  and 
wait  until  success  in  business  should 
furnish  the  means  of  repayment.  The 
offer  was  accepted.  The  apprentice  boy 
bought  his  time,  entered  the  office  of 
Judge  Wood,  and  for  more  than  two 
years  applied  himself  closely  to  busi- 
ness and  study.  He  read  law  and 
general  literature  and  practised  sur- 
veying." 

Not  content  with  entire  dependence 
upon  his  benefactor  for  his  support,  he 
resorted  to  that  unfailing  resource  of  an 
American  youth  making  progress  from 
poverty  upward  to  the  intellectual  pro- 
fessions— ^he  became  a  schoolmaster  for 
a  portion  of  the  year.  At  the  age  of 
twenty-one  he  removed  to  Erie  County, 
and  entered  a  law  office  in  Buffalo.  His 
legal  studies  were  completed  in  1823, 
when,  difiident  of  success  in  a  city  so 
well  stocked  with  the  profession  as  his 
late  residence,  he  began  the  practice  of 
law  at  Aurora.  He  shortly  after  was 
married  to  the  daughter  of  the  Rev. 
Lemuel  Powers.  Success  came  to  him 
gradually,  affording  him  ample  time  to 
develop  his  studies  by  patient  applica- 
tion. He  pursued  this  path,  gaining 
his  ground  surely  and  steadily.  In 
1828,  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
assembly  in  the  State  legislature  by  a 
Whig  constituency  of  his  county,  and 
signalized  himself  at  Albany  by  his  ad- 
vocacy of  the  bill  for  the  abolition  of 
imprisonment  for  debt,  a  portion  of 
which  was  prepared  by  him  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  committee.  He  now  had  his 
residence  as  a  member  of  the  bar  al 
Buffalo. 


MTLT.ARD  FILLMORE. 


34') 


Ilis  cono-ressional  life  coramenced  in 
1833,  witli  liis  election  to  the  House  of 
Eepresentatives.    It  was  the  beginning 
of  the  second  term  of  Jackson's  admin- 
istration, that  period  of  conflict  which 
was  to  test  to  the  uttermost  the  party 
strength  of  the  great  chieftain,  and  out 
of  which  he  was  to  emerge  triumph- 
antly.   Mr.  Fillmore,  a  young  member 
of  the  House  of  the  losius;  side  was 
there  to  learn  his  lesson  of  political 
wisdom  in  the  aoitation.    He  secured 
the  respect  of  his  constituents  by  his 
course,  and  made  a  considerable  step 
onward  in  his  career,  without  greatly 
attracting  public  attention.    His  term 
of  two  years  having  expired,  he  was  not 
immediately  a  candidate  for  reelection, 
but  devoted  himself  to  his  profession  at 
Bujftalo.  He  was  not,  however,  suffered 
to  rest  in  private  life.    In  1836,  he  was 
again  elected  to  Congress,  taking  his 
seat  at  the  commencement  of  Mr.  Van 
Buren's  administration,  and  continuino- 
to  serve  by  reelection  through  the 
whole  period  of  his  Presidency.  He 
rose  mth  his  experience  in  the  national 
conncJIs,  being  in  this  second  term,  the 
first  session  of  the  twenty-sixth  Congress, 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  committee  on 
elections,  which  threw  into  his  hands  the 
management  of  the  famous  contested 
New  Jersey  case.    Mr.  Fillmore  was 
again  elected  to  the  next  succeeding  Con- 
gress of  1841,  by  a  larger  majority  than 
he  had  hitherto  received.    The  Whio-s 
bemg  now  m  power,  he  was  placed  at  the  , 
head  of  the  important  committee  on  < 
Ways  and  Means,  where  he  was  charged  > 
with  duties  which  fully  called  forth  his  i 
resources,  and  placed  him  at  length  in  a  : 
conspicuous  position  before  the  public.  : 
n.— 44 


At  the  close  of  this  term,  though 
renominated  by  his  friends  in  Erie 
County,  he  persisted  in  declining  a  con- 
tinuance in  office.    His  profession  had 
claims  upon  his  attention  to  which  he 
was  eager  to  respond,  and  his  tempera- 
ment invited  rej)ose.    His  political  posi- 
tion, however,  was  too  well  established 
for  him  to  be  left  in  quiet  by  his  party. 
He  was  immediately  adopted  as  their 
candidate  for  Governor  of  New  York, 
accepted  the  nomination,  and  was  de- 
feated in  the  election  of  1844.  In  1847 
he  was  chosen  comptroller  of  the  State, 
by  a  large  majority.    He  "commenced 
his  new  duties  at  Albany,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  1848,  and  before  the  year 
was  closed,  was  nominated  and  elected 
Vice-President  of  the  United  States. 
He  had  the  same  vote  with  his  princi- 
pal, Greneral  Taylor,  of  fifteen  States, 
and  a  majority  of  the  electoral  vote  of 
thirty-six. 

The  duties  of  his  new  office  of  course 
involved  his  resignation  of  the  comp- 
troUership.    He  entered  upon  the  Pre- 
sidency of  the  Senate  in  March,  1849  ; 
it  was  an  office  which  he  was  well  fitted 
to  discharge,  and  he  left  behind  him, 
when  he  was  called  to  a  higher  station,  > 
an  impression  of  his  moderation  and 
urbanity.    On  the  9th  of  July,  1850, 
while  Congress  was  in  session,  the  sud- 
den death  of  General  Taylor,  devolved 
upon  him  the  cares  and  responsibilities 
of  the  Presidency.    In  deference  to  the 
general  feeling  of  regret  which  was 
called  forth  by  the  departure  of  this 
estimable  man,  and  in  obedience  to  his 
successor's  own  feelings,  his  entrance 
into  office  was  conducted  in  the  sim- 
plest manner.    The  day  after  the  death 


350 


MILLARD  FILLMORE. 


of  the  late  President,  attended  hy  a 
committee  of  the  two  Houses  and  the 
members  of  the  late  President's  cabinet, 
the  oath  was  administered  to  him,  not 
in  front  of  the  Capitol  but  in  the  Hall 
of  the  House  of  Representatives,  by  the 
venerable  Judge  Cranch,  of  the  Circuit 
Court  of  the  District  of  Columbia, 
"  which  being  done.  President  Fillmore, 
without  any  inaugural  address,  bowed 
and  retired,  and  the  ceremony  was  at 
an  end."^ 

The  loss  of  General  Taylor  was  the 
more  felt  as  the  country  was  at  the 
time  agitated  with  the  discussions 
growing  out  of  the  subject  of  slavery, 
which  had  arisen  with  the  question  of 
the  disposition  of  the  territory  con- 
quered from  Mexico ;  and  the  late  Pre- 
sident, of  moderate  views,  and  capable 
of  giving  great  weight  to  them  in  the 
national  councils,  by  his  intimate  rela- 
tions with  the  South,  was  looked  to  as 
the  great  mediator  in  effecting  a  com- 
promise of  the  conflicting  interests. 
This  had  already  been  proposed  by  Mr, 
Clay,  and  found  an  advocate  in  the  Pre- 
sident. Thus,  when  his  aid  seemed 
most  needed,  he  expired,  leaving  the 
great  work  to  be  accomplished  by  his 
successor.  It  was  undertaken  by  him, 
so  far  as  the  influence  of  his  oifice  ex- 
tended, in  a  spirit  of  conciliation.  His 
choice  of  Daniel  "Webster  as  Secretary 
of  State,  and  of  the  other  members  of 
his  cabinet,  from  different  portions  of 
the  Union,  was  an  earnest  of  his  inten- 
tions. The  boundary  between  Texas 
and  New  Mexico,  a  matter  of  some  dif- 


»  Benton's  Thirty  Years'  View,  II.  767. 


Acuity,  was  adjusted,  California  was 
admitted  as  a  free  State,  Utah  Territory 
was  organized,  and  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Law  enacted.  In  other  affairs  of  social 
importance.  President  Fillmore's  brief 
term  of  ofiice  was  signalized  by  several 
incidents  which  will  always  find  a  place 
in  the  history  of  the  country.  The  re- 
duction of  postage  on  letters  to  the  uni- 
form rate  of  three  cents,  the  return  of 
the  government  Arctic  expedition  of 
Lieutenant  De  Haven,  sent  in  quest  of 
Sir  John  Franklin,  the  visit  of  Kossuth 
to  the  country  in  1851,  the  sailing  of 
Commodore  Perry's  expedition  to  Ja- 
pan in  the  following  year,  are  events 
which  will  be  more  lasting  in  their  con- 
sequences than  many  battles  which  have 
filled,  for  the  time,  a  larger  space  in  the 
public  attention. 

Mr.  Fillmore's  term  of  ofiice  closed  in 
the  spring  of  1853.  The  following  year 
he  made  a  tour  in  the  South,  w^here  he 
was  well  received,  and  in  1855  visited 
Europe  to  return  in  season  for  the  Pre- 
sidential canvass  of  1856.  He  was  put 
forward  in  that  election  as  a  medium 
candidate  of  the  American  party,  be- 
tween the  nominee  of  the  Democratic 
party,  Mr.  Buchanan,  and  Colonel  Fre- 
mont, of  the  Republican.  In  such  a 
contest  there  was  little  strength  to  be 
wasted  by  the  two  great  divisions 
which  swallowed  up  the  rest.  Mr, 
Fillmore  received  the  vote  only  of  the 
single  State  of  Maryland. 

Since  that  period  Mr.  Fillmore  has 
not  been  before  the  public  as  a  candi- 
date for  office.  He  has  continued  to 
reside  in  the  western  part  of  the  State 
of  New  York, 


I 

I 


NATHANIEL  LYON 


The  family  of  General  Lyon  lias 
been  traced  in  direct  male  line  to  a 
Scottisli  knight  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, several  of  whose  descendants  in 
that  country  were  driven,  in  the  follow- 
ing century,  by  the  disturbed  state  of 
public  affairs,  to  emigrate  to  New  Eng- 
land.   Ephraim  Lyon,  the  grandfather 
of  the  subject  of  this  notice,  served  in 
the  War  of  the  Eevolution,  and  subse- 
quently was  settled  as  a  lawyer  and 
farmer  in  the  town  of  Ashford,  Connec- 
ticut.   His  third  son,  Amasa,  married 
a  daughter  of  Lieutenant  Daniel  Knowl- 
ton,  an  officer  of  reputation  in  the  old 
French  war  and  the  War  of  the  Eevo- 
lution, and  brother  of  the  memorable 
Colonel  Knowlton,  whose   skill  and 
valor  were  so  serviceable  at  Bunker 
Hill,  and  who  ended  his  days  on  the 
field  in  the  army  of  Washington,  at 
Harlem  Heights.  Nathaniel,  the  fourth 
son  of  Amasa,  and  the  seventh  of  a 
family  of  nine  children,  was  born  at  the 
old  farm-house  in  Ashford,  July  14th, 
1818.     A   thoughtful    and  studious 
boy,  he  diligently  availed  himself  of  - 
the  means  of  instruction  within  his  < 
reach  at  the  district  school  of  the  town,  : 
and  warmed  by  the  patriotic  blood  < 
which  ran  in  his  veins,  and  the  example  ^ 
of  his  ancestors,  early  formed  the  reso-  ( 
lution  of  entering  the  army.    His  pre-  i 


3  liminary  education  having  been  com- 
i  pleted  at  an  academy  at  Brooklyn,  Ct., 

•  he  was  admitted  a  cadet  at  West  Point, 
I  in   1837.     His   time  was  profitably 

•  passed  at  this  institution,  and  at  the 
expiration  of  his  course  in  1841,  stand- 
ing eleventh  in  a  class  of  fifty-two,  he 
was  sent  forth  to  the  world  Second 
Lieutenant  in  the  Second  Eegiment  of 
Infantry. 

The  first  service  to  which  he  was 
called  was  in  the  Florida  War,  which 
was  then  drawing  to  a  close,  after  hav 
ing  for  six  years  taxed  the  best  efibrts  of 
successive  military  commanders  of  dis- 
tinction.   Lieutenant  Lyon's  company 
was  distinguished  by  its  activity  in  the 
concluding  military  operations  in  1842. 
He  was  next  stationed  at  Sacket's  Har- 
bor,  where  we  find  him  employing  his 
leisure  in  the  reading  of  law  and  in  ' 
other  studies,  cultivating  an  independ- 
ent habit  of  thinking,  opposed  to  the 
annexation  of  Texas,  and  foreseeing  in 
it  the  germ  of  hostilities.    When  the 
war  broke  out  in  1846,  he  was  sent 
with  his  company  to  join  the  column 
of  General  Taylor  on  the  Eio  Grande. 
He  reached  the  army  after  the  capture 
of  Monterey,  and  was  presently  ordered 
with  his  company  to  the  command  of 
General  Scott,  then  about  to  advance 
upon  the  capital.    Lieutenant  Lyon 

861 


352 


NATHANIEL  LYON. 


joined  Scott's  forces  at  Lobos  Island, 
and  was  with  tliem  at  tlie  landing 
at  Vera  Cruz,  and  in  the  siege  ope- 
rations against  that  city.  Attached  to 
the  advanced  division  of  General 
Twiggs,  he  was  actively  engaged  in  the 
battle  of  Cerro  Gordo,  and  subse- 
quently, in  the  actions  of  Contreras  and 
Cherubusco,  for  his  gallantry  in  which, 
he  was  made  Brevet  Captain. 

On  his  return  to  the  United  States, 
Captain  Lyon  was  ordered  to  California, 
where  he  was  for  several  years  employed 
in  active  service  in  campaigns  among  the 
Indians,  in  which  he  was  distinguished 
by  the  promptness  and  celerity  of  his 
movements.    His  conduct  of  an  expe- 
dition in  northern  California  against 
the  Indians  of  Clear  Lake,  who  had 
committed  various  outrages  calling  for 
redress,  gained  for  him  the  applause  of 
his  brother  officers,  who,  in  the  words 
of  General  Persifer  F.  Smith,  the  com- 
mander of  the  Department,  "  All  unite 
in  awarding  to  Captain  Lyon  the  highest 
praise  for  his  untiring  energy,  zeal,  and 
sMlL"    In  1852  he  obtained  leave  of 
absence  to  visit  his  home,  to  which  he 
was  recalled  by  the   illness  of  his 
mother,  to  whom  he  was  tenderly  at- 
tached.   She  died,  however,  before  his 
arrival. 

Keturning  to  California,  he  was  or- 
dered the  following  year  to  the  East, 
and  after  passing  a  portion  of  the  win- 
ter and  spring  of  1854  at  Washington, 
where  the  discussion  of  the  relations 
of  the  nation  to  slavery  much  engaged 
his  attention,  he  was  sent  to  the  terri- 
tory of  Kansas,  where  the  question  was 
about  to  be  answered  in  physical  argu- 
ments of  a  more  practical  character 


than   the   speeches   of  Congressmen. 
Lyon,   by   principle    and    the  con- 
stitution of  his  mind,  was  in  favor 
of  freedom,  and  he  watched  the  ap- 
proach of  the  coming  struggle  with 
a  solemn  sense  of  responsibility.  Im- 
patient of  the  efforts  made  to  force 
slavery  upon  the  virgin  territory,  he 
determined,  if  ordered  into  Kansas  to 
enforce  the  laws  of  the  unfaii-ly-elected 
pro-slavery  legislature,  to  resign  his 
commission  rather  than  fight  against 
his  convictions  of  duty.    He  was  sent, 
however,  upon  other  service  among  the 
Indians  of  the  Far  West,  where  his  time 
was  chiefly  passed  in  various  arduous 
duties  down  to  the  period  of  his  em- 
ploymem  in  the  opening  scenes  of  the 
War  for  the  Union,  in  Missouri.  Pre- 
viousiV  to  these  events  he  had  written 
a  series  of  articles  in  favor  of  the  suc- 
cess of  the  Kepublican  party  in  the  Pre- 
sidential election,  which  were  printed  in 
the  summer  and  autumn  of  1859  in  the 
"  Western  Kansas  Express,"  and  which 
have  since  been  collected  into  a  volume, 
and  published  in  New  York. 

On  the  inauguration  of  President 
Lincoln,  Captain  Lyon  was  placed  in 
charge  of  the  arsenal  at  St.  Louis. 
The  forethought  and  capacity  which 
he  displayed  in  this  command  deter- 
mined the  political  fortunes  of  the 
State.  The  Governor  and  a  large  party 
of  wealthy,  influential  citizens  were 
ready  and  anxious  to  side  with  the 
South  in  the  rebellion  inaugurated  in 
South  Carolina.  Under  the  pretence 
of  armed  neutrality,  though  a  con- 
vention which  had  been  called  had 
pronounced  in  favor  of  the  Union,  it 
was  the  effort  of  Governor  Jackson  and 


NATHANIEL  LYON. 


353 


tho.  Legislature  to  hold  tlie  power  of 
the  State  in  tlieir  hands  under  in- 
fluences adverse  to  the  National  Gov- 
ernment, To  resist  tliis,  and  keep  Mis- 
souri loyal  to  the  Union,  was  the  work 
of  Captain  Lyon,  to  which  he  devoted 
every  energy.  With  a  handful  of  men 
at  the  arsenal,  he  baffled  the  efforts  of 
a  mob  of  insurgents  who  beset  the 
place,  and  secured  the  removal  of  a 
large  quantity  of  arms  stored  there,  to 
Illinois.  A  few  days  after  this  incident, 
on  the  thirtieth  of  April,  he  was  for- 
mally authorized  by  President  Lincoln 
to  enroll  a  force  of  ten  thousand  citi- 
zens of  the  State,  and,  if  necessary  for 
the  preservation  of  the  peace,  and  the 
authority  of  the  United  States,  pro- 
claim martial  law. 

On  the  sixth  of  May,  affairs  at  St. 
Louis  were  approaching  a  crisis.  The 
local  Police  Commissioners  demanded 
the  Avithdrawal  of  the  Federal  troops 
which  Captain  Lyon  had  collected, 
from  the  grounds  around  the  arsenal, 
which  Captain  Lyon  refused,  and  a 
few  days  after,  on  the  tenth,  himself 
marched  to  disperse  a  band  of  militia 
which  had  been  established  by  the 
Governor,  in  a  camp  near  the  city,  and 
which  was  named  after  him.  Camp 
Jackson.  Captain  Lyon  surrounded 
the  encampment  with  his  men,  planting 
cannon  on  the  adjacent  heights,  and 
demanded  an  immediate  surrender. 
General  Frost,  in  command  of  the 
militia,  accordingly  surrendered  the 
whole  force  as  prisoners  of  war.  As 
they  were  marched  to  the  city,  an,  as- 
sault was  made  on  Captain  Lyon's 
Home  Guard,  which  fired  in  return ;  a 
number  were  killed  and  wounded,  and 


the  greatest  alarm  and  confusion  pre- 
vailed that  night  in  the  city.  Order 
was,  however,  restored  by  the  military. 
The  next  day,  General  Harney  arrived 
and  took  command  in  the  city,  and  a 
few  days  after  Captain  Lyon  was  ap- 
pointed by  the  President,  Brigadier- 
General  of  Volunteers. 

When  General  Harney  soon  after  was 
recalled,  in  consequence  of  an  injudi- 
cious concession  in  an  arrangement 
with  General  Price,  of  the  State  militia, 
General  Lyon  succeeded  him  in  the  De- 
partment. An  interview  with  Governor 
Jackson  was  presently  (on  the  eleventh 
of  June)  held  with  General  Lyon  at  St. 
Louis,  in  which  the  former  promised  to 
disband  the  State  Guard  and  militia,  and 
demanded  in  return  the  breaking  up  of 
the  Home  Guard  by  the  General  Gov- 
ernment, and  that  no  portion  of  its 
troops  should  occupy  any  new  poi-tion 
of  the  State.  General  Lyon,  knowing 
that  Missouri  could  be  held  only  by 
positive  authority,  refused  any  such 
negotiation,  and  Governor  Jackson  left 
for  Jefferson  City,  where  he  fulminated 
an  address  "  to  the  people  of  Missouri," 
calling  for  50,000  men  to  repel  inva- 
sion. General  Lyon  accepted  the  issue,* 
and  on  the  13th  June,  the  day  after 
the  proclamation,  sailed  up  the  Mis- 
souri with  1,500  troops  for  the  capital, 
when  the  rebellious  Governor  and  his 
associates  fled  before  him  to  Boonville, 
whither,  on  the  seventeenth,  they  were 
pursued  by  the  Union  force,  and  offer- 
ing resistance  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  town,  were  completely  routed. 

Having  established  the  national  au- 
thority in  this  quarter.  General  Lyon 
prepared  to  move  southward,  and  pass- 


354 


NATHANIEL  LYON. 


ing  by  forced  marches  to  and  beyond 
Springfield,  again,  on  tlie  twelffcli  of 
Auffust,  met  and  defeated  the  Confede- 
rates  at  Dug  Springs,  nineteen  miles 
from  the  latter  place.  Keturning  to 
Springfield,  his  small  and  enfeebled 
force  was  there  endangered  by  the  ap- 
proach of  the  enemy  in  greatly  superior 
numbers.  Calling  in  vain  for  reinforce- 
ments, he  was  compelled  by  his  sense 
of  the  necessities  of  the  occasion,  to 
offer  battle  on  disadvantageous  terms. 
He  went  out  to  meet  the  foe,  attacked 
them  on  the  tenth  of  August  in  their 
camp  at  Wilson's  Creek,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  perils  of  that  day  which 
was  so  gallantly  sustained  by  the 
Union  forces,  fell,  pierced  with  three 
wounds,  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight; 
nobly  offering  up  his  life  a  sacrifice  to 
the  cause  of  his  bleeding  country.  In 
the  simple  and  truthful  language  of 
Major  Sturges,  his  second  in  command 
on  that  day:  "Thus  gloriously  fell  as 
brave  a  soldier  as  ever  drew  a  sword ; 


a  man  whose  honesty  of  purpose  was 
proverbial ;  a  noble  patriot,  and  one 
who  held  his  life  as  nothing  when  his 
country  demanded  it  of  him." 

The  remains  of  General  Lyon  were 
brought  in  long  funeral  procession, 
everywhere  honored  by  expressions  of 
profound  sympathy,  through  St.  Louis, 
Cincinnati,  Pittsburg,  Philadelphia, 
New  York,  and  Hartford,  to  his  last 
simple  resting-place,  amidst  the  home 
scenery  of  his  youth,  at  Eastford,  where, 
in  front  of  the  village  church,  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Governors  of  Connecticut 
and  Rhode  Island,  and  others  in  autho- 
rity, and  a  congregation  of  faithful 
mourners,  an  oration  by  the  Hon.  Ga- 
lusha  A.  Grow,  the  Speaker  of  the 
National  House  of  Representatives,  was 
delivered,  and  the  last  services  per- 
formed. Certainly  among  the  heroes 
of  three  wars,  whose  lives  are  recorded 
in  these  pages,  no  purer  or  more  de- 
voted patriot  has  challenged  our  atten 
tion  than  Nathaniel  Lyon. 


Joinisaa.Tiy  Si  CcTatTisliei-s.  JJTew'^fk 

\ 


I 


J 


LEWIS 


CASS. 


Lewis  Cass  was  bom  at  Exeter, 
New  Hampshire,  October  9,  1782.  His 
ancestry,  botli  on  the  father's  and 
mother's  side,  belongs  to  the  early  Pu- 
ritan stock  of  New  England,  of  which 
his  father,  Jonathan  Cass,  was  a  sturdy 
representative.  At  nineteen,  leaving 
the  severe  toils  of  the  New  Hampshire 
forest,  to  enlist,  at  the  first  call,  as  a 
soldier  of  the  Revolution,  he  served 
through  the  war  from  Bunker  Hill  to 
its  close  with  credit,  when  he  retired 
with  the  rank  of  captain.  He  was 
afterwards  attached  to  the  army  on  its 
reorganization,  and,  joining  Wayne's 
western  army,  was  appointed  a  major, 
and  stationed  at  Fort  Hamilton,  in 
Ohio.  Resigning  his  commission  not 
long  after,  he  received  a  tract  of  bounty 
land  for  his  services,  upon  the  Mus- 
kingum River,  near  Zanesville.  This 
became  his  home  and  the  home  of  his 
family ;  and  it  was  thus  that  the  sub- 
ject of  our  sketch  was  introduced  to 
the  western  region  with  which  he  be- 
came so  strongly  identified. 

The  birth  of  Lewis  Cass  occurred 
as  we  have  stated,  at  the  close  of  the 
Revolution,  at  Exeter.  The  boy  had  at 
least  one  piece  of  good  fortune  in  that 
locality.  It  was  the  seat  of  the  excel- 
lent academy  of  Benjamin  Abbott, 
where  many  of  the  most  illustrious 


sons  of  New  England,  as  Daniel  Web- 
ster, the  Everetts,  and  Buckingham,  re- 
ceived their  education.    Young  Cass 
was  entered  there  at  the  age  of  ten  and 
left  it  at  seventeen,  when  his  father  re- 
moved to  the  West.    On  leaving  their 
home  in  New  England,  the  family  did 
not  at  once  proceed  to  their  new  resi- 
dence, but  travelled  thither  by  a  round- 
about way,  with  several  detentions  at 
cities  of  importance,  which  gave  the 
young  Lewis  a  valuable  introduction 
to  the  society  of  the  period.  They 
tarried  for  a  while  at  Wilmington,  in 
Delaware,  where  Lewis  was  employed 
in  teaching  in  the  academy ;  thence  they 
journeyed  by  Harper's  Ferry  and  Win- 
chester to  Pittsburg ;  thence  by  the 
river  Ohio  to  Marietta.     At  every 
step  some  interesting  acquaintance  was 
formed  with  the  heroes  of  the  late  war, 
or  some  fresh  experience  gained  of  the' 
new  western  world  rising  before  them. 
When  his  father  passed  on  to  his  land 
on  the  Muskingum,  Lewis  remained  at 
Marietta,  to  study  law  with  Governor 
Meigs  ;  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
the  territory,  and  subsequently  with 
Mathew  Baccus,  a  lawyer  of  the  town. 
Two  years  were  thus  passed  when,  at  the 
close  of  1802,  before  he  was  of  age,  he 
was  admitted  to  the  practice  of  the 
profession.    Business  flowed  in  upon 

S«5 


356 


LEWIS  CASS. 


him  at  Lis  office  in  his  father's  neiffbor- 
hood,  at  Zanesville,  and  he  was  speedily 
accepted  as  one  of  the  rising  men  of  the 
new  country.  He  was  married  in  1806 
to  Elizabeth  Spencer,  daughter  of  a 
gentleman  of  New  York,  who  had 
settled  in  Virginia,  and,  the  same  year, 
was  first  introduced  to  political  life  by 
his  election  as  a  member  of  the  Ohio 
Legislature,  which  then  assembled  at 
Chillicothe,  the  capital  of  the  new 
State. 

The  Ohio  River  was  at  that  moment 
attracting  the  public  attention  as  the 
scene  of  Colonel  Burr's  supposed  trea- 
sonable preparations  in  the  equipment 
of  a  fleet  of  boats,  with  the  intention, 
as  some  thought,  of  separating  the 
western  States  and  dismembering  the 
Union.  A  messenger,  the  Chief  Clerk 
in  the  Department  of  State,  was  sent 
by  President  Jefferson  to  ascertain 
the  public  sentiment  and  condition  of 
things  in  Ohio.  He  was  in  communi- 
cation with  the  Governor,  and  the 
Governor  brought  the  matter  before 
the  Legislature.  A  special  committee 
was  appointed,  on  which  Mr.  Cass  was 
placed,  to  investigate  the  affair.  A 
bill  was  in  consequence  reported  by 
him  conferring  power  upon  the  Gover- 
nor to  arrest  all  concerned  in  the  con- 
spiracy. The  boats  were  seized  and 
the  affair  put  an  end  to.  Mr,  Cass  fur- 
ther signalized  his  patriotism  and  de- 
votion to  Jefferson,  by  proposing  an 
address  to  the  President,  which  was 
adopted  by  the  Legislature.  It  was 
clear  in  its  professions  of  attachment  to 
the  Union  and  the  Constitution.  Pre- 
sident Jefferson  replied  to  the  address 
with  unusual  satisfaction.    "  The  hand 


of  the  people,"  he  wrote,  "  has  given  a 
mortal  blow  to  a  conspiracy,  which,  in 
other  countries,  would  have  called  for 
an  appeal  to  arms,  and  has  proved  that 
government  to  be  the  strongest,  of 
which  every  man  feels  himself  a  part. 
It  is  a  happy  illustration,  too,  of  pre- 
serving to  the  State  authorities  all  the 
vigor  which  the  Constitution  foresaw 
would  be  necessary,  not  only  for  their 
own  safety,  but  for  that  of  the  whole." 

Whether  owing  to  the  part  borne  by 
Mr.  Cass  in  this  affair  or  not,  the  next 
year  the  President  appointed  him  to 
the  office  of  United  States  Marshal  for 
the  State  of  Ohio,  which  he  held  till 
the  close  of  the  year  1811,  when  the 
threatening  aspect  of  the  Indians  on 
the  frontier,  and  the  imminent  war 
with  Great  Britain,  led  to  a  call  for 
volunteer  troops  in  the  State,  and  he 
volunteered  his  services  as  a  member 
of  the  newly  raised  force.  Joining  this 
body  at  the  rendezvous  at  Dayton,  in 
the  spring  of  1812,  he  was  assigned  to 
the  command  of  one  of  the  three  regi- 
ments thus  formed,  and  commissioned 
as  colonel.  The  whole,  united  with  a 
body  of  regulars  under  Colonel  Miller, 
was  placed  under  the  command  of 
Brigadier-General  Hull,  the  Governor 
of  the  Michigan  Territory,  The  design 
was  to  invade  Canada  from  Detroit, 
cooperate  with  a  similar  attack  at  Nia- 
gara, and,  joined  by  a  force  from  Pitts- 
burg, advance  to  the  conquest  of 
Montreal.  In  accordance  with  this 
general  plan,  Colonel  Cass  led  his 
troops  a  rough  and  wearisome  march, 
two  hundred  miles  through  the  wilder- 
ness, from  the  station  at  Urbanna  to 
Detroii.    When,  on  the  last  day  oi' 


LEWIS  CASS. 


357 


J  line,  tlie  expedition  reached  tlie  rapids 
of  the  Maumee,  near  its  entrance  into 
Lake  Erie,  General  Hull,  not  even  then 
a^rare  that  war  had  been  declared  at 
Washington,  on  the  eigliteenth  sent  his 
sick,  a  portion  of  his  stores  and  ba<r- 
gage,  forward   by  water,  to  Detroit. 
The  British,  it  a23peared,  were  better 
informed  than  he  was.    They  knew 
that  war  had  commenced,  and  quietly, 
from  their  station  at  Maiden,  captured 
his  vessel  on  its  approach  to  the  De- 
troit River.    With  the  spoils  were  the 
private  papers  of  Hull,  so  that  the 
enemy  was  put  in  possession  of  all  the 
military  details  and  objects  of  his  expe- 
dition. The  American  general  received 
the  news  of  the  declaration  after  this 
event.    Notwithstanding,  however,  the 
advantage  thus  gained,  the  British 
made  no  effort  to  intercept  the  march, 
which  was  successfully  pursued  to  De- 
troit.   There  a  council  of  war  was 
called,  in  which  Colonel  Cass  advo- 
cated rapid  action,  in  an  attack  upon 
Maiden,  while  Greneral  Hull  was  irreso- 
lute, but  presently  yielded  to  the  move- 
ment.   The  army  crossed  the  river  on 
the  11th  of  July,  Colonel  Cass  taking 
the  advance,  and  being  the  first  to  land 
on  British  soil  after  the  declaration  of 
war.    There  was  some  delay  waiting 
for  artillery  at  Windsor,  on  the  shore 
opposite  to  Detroit,  while  a  proclama- 
tion, written  by  Greneral  Cass,  was  cir- 
culated among  the  inhabitants.  Hull 
still  counselled  inaction.   A  week  after 
crossing,  on  the  seventeenth.  Colonel 
Cass  was  allowed  to  move  forward  to 
take  possession  of  a  bridge  at  an  inter- 
mediate river,  four  miles  from  the  fort. 
He  managed  this  affair  with  success, 
n.— 45 


leaving  a  company  of  riflemen  to  divert 
the   enemy  at  the  bridge,  while  he 
passed  his  men  over  the  river  above ; 
he  then  met  the  British  and  drove 
them  before  him  with  loss.    This  ad- 
vantage might  have  led  to  the  conquest 
of  the  fort,  had  not  Hull,  with  inexcu- 
sable timidity,  withdrawn  the  force 
from  the  position  it  had  so  creditably 
gained.    His  next  movement  was  to  re- 
turn to  Detroit,  in  consequence  of  the 
defeat  of  a  party  which  had  been  sent 
from  the  camp  to  assist  in  bringing  up 
some  provisions  which  were  on  the 
way.    This  retreat  took  place  on  the 
8th  of  August.    A  second  detachment, 
under  Colonel  Miller,  was  then  sent  to 
escort  the  provision  train,  which  was 
also  met  by  the  enemy,  when  a  sharp 
engagement  ensued.   Though  the  Ame- 
rican party  held  its  ground,  it  was  re- 
called, the  commander-in-chief  having  a 
wholesome  fear  of  the  Indians  who 
took  part  in  these  contests  and  infested 
the  region.    Still  a  third  attempt  was 
made  to  open  the  communication  with 
the  expected  supplies,  which  was  led 
by  Colonels  Cass  and  McArthur.  The 
party  started  from  Detroit  on  the  four- 
teenth of  the  month,  the  very  day  the  ^ 
energetic  General  Brock  arrived  to  take 
the  command  at  Maiden,  and  before  its 
return  Hull  had  surrendered  his  entire 
force,  including  the  party  led  by  Colo- 
nel Cass  and  his  brother  officer.  Re- 
luctantly were  they  compelled  to  ac- 
quiesce in  this  arrangement.  Colonel 
Cass,  on  being  called  to  deliver  his 
sword,  indignantly  drew  it  from  its 
scabbard,  and  breaking  it  in  two,  threw 
it  away.    He  was  released  upon  parole, 
returned  to  Ohio,  and  thence  travelled 


358 


LEWIS  CASS. 


to  Wasliington  at  tlie  request  of  liis 
brother  soldiers,  to  inform  tlie  govern- 
ment of  tlie  particulars  of  tliis  ignomi- 
nious surrender. 

For  the  remainder  of  the  year  Colo- 
nel Cass  was  incapacitated  by  liis  pa- 
role from  any  active  part  in  the  duties 
of  the  field.    He  was  discharged  from 
this  obligation,  however,  in  January, 
1813,  by  exchange,  when  he  was  com- 
missioned colonel  in  the  regular  army, 
and  charged  with  raising  and  organiz- 
ing an  Ohio  regiment.    He  joined  Gen- 
eral Harrison,  the  commander-in-chief 
in  the  West,  in  the  summer,  with  the 
increased  rank  of  Brigadier-General; 
was  with  the  army  in  its  preparatory 
movements  in  the  neighborhood  of  Lake 
Erie ;  and,  after  the  victory  of  Perry,  in 
September  had  opened  the  way  for  the 
invasion  of  Canada,  crossed  with  Gene- 
ral Harrison  to  Maiden,  and  with  him 
entered  Detroit  in  triumph.    The  Bri- 
tish General,  Proctor,  had  fled  before 
the  advancing  Americans,  by  the  way 
of  Lake  St.  Clair  and  the  Thames.  His 
slow  movement  gave  opportunity  for 
pursuit ;  he  was  overtaken  by  Harri- 
son, and  defeated  on  the  5th  of  Octo- 
ber, in  the  Battle  of  the  Thames,  in 
which  Colonel  Eichard  M.  Johnson 
bore  so  prominent  a  part.  General 
Cass  was  with  the  American  forces,  act- 
ing with  Perry  as  volunteer  aid  to  the 
commanding   general,  and,  with  the 
hero  of  Lake  Erie,  contributing  greatly, 
by  his  spirit  and  exertions,  to  the  suc- 
cess of  the  day.    On  the  advance  of 
General  Harrison,  he  was  left  in  com- 
mand of  the  North-Western  frontier, 
with  his  head-quarters  at  Detroit,  He 
had  hardly  entered  upon  this  office, 


however,  before  he  received  the  ap- 
pointment from  President  Madison  of 
Governor  of  the  Territory  of  Michigan. 
This  devolved  upon  him  new  and  im- 
portant duties,  both  of  a  military  and 
civil  character,  in  making  provision  for 
the  defence  of  the  frontier,  and  as  the 
Superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs.  He 
took  part  with  General  Harrison  in  the 
grand  council  of  the  Indians  at  Green- 
ville, in  July,  1814,  and  was  afterwards 
much   employed  in   conciliating  the 
friendly  tribes,  and  opposing  the  hosti- 
lities offered  by  others,  in  the  region 
placed  under  his  protection. 

On  the  conclusion  of  peace.  General 
Cass  established  himself  with  his  family 
at  Detroit.    His  attention  was  at  once 
turned  to  the  settlement  and  occupa- 
tion of  the  territory,  which  was  then  a 
wilderness  roamed  over  by  the  Indians. 
The  first  step  was  to  negotiate  with 
them  for  the  cession  of  the  land.  This 
was  successfully  accomplished  in  the 
treaty  which  he  made,  in  pursuance  of 
directions  of  the  Government  at  Wash- 
ing-ton, with  the  Indians  in  council  at 
Fort  Meigs,  in  the  spring  of  1817,  a 
treaty  by  which  the  Indian  title  to  four 
millions  of  acres  of  land  in  Ohio,  Indi- 
ana, and  Michigan  was  extinguished, 
and  the  policy  of  removal  fairly  adopted 
— a  treaty  which  was  pronounced  by 
the  Secretary  of  War,  Mr.  Calhoun, 
"  in  its  fiscal,  moral,  and  political  effects, 
the  most  important  of  any  hitherto 
made  with  the  Indians."  ^  General  Cass 
was  also  engaged  in  subsequent  treaties 
of  cession  of  the  tribes  at  St.  Marys  and 
Sao-inaw.     A  military  road  from  San- 


•  Smith's  Lewis  Cass,  p.  112, 


LEWIS  CASS. 


359 


dusky  to  Detroit  was  undertaken  at  liis 
instigation,  and  the  first  newspaper  in 
Mich  io-an,  "  The  Detroit  Gazette,"  com- 
menced in  1817  under  his  auspices. 
Seeing  the  benefits  of  a  good  understand- 
ing with  the  Indian  tribes,  and  for  the 
further  development  of  the  country,  he 
advised  a  government  expedition  into 
the  Lake  Superior  region  and  the  inter- 
vening territory  to  the  Mississippi,  with 
a  view,  in  the  words  of  his  communica- 
cation  to  the  War  Department  at  Wash- 
ington, in  November,  1819,  "to  examine 
the  productions  of  its  animal,  vegetable, 
and  mineral  kingdoms ;  to  explore  its 
facilities  for  water  communication;  to 
delineate  its  natural  objects,  and  to 
ascertain  its  present  and  future  proba- 
ble value;"  with  the  further  political 
objects  of  becoming  acquainted  with 
the  condition  of  the  Indian  tribes  in 
the  regions,  and  extinguishing  their 
titles  to  the  land. 

The  expedition  was  accordingly  or- 
ganized, with  a  corps  of  scientific  men, 
including  Mr.  Henry  E.  Schoolcraft,  as 
mineralogist;  Captain  D.  B.  Douglass 
Professor  of  engineering  at  West  Point, 
as  topographer  and  astronomer ;  a  num- 
ber of  Canadian  voyageurs,  interpreters, 
etc.,  and  a  small  military  escort.  Thus 
armed  and  equipped,  the  party,  led  by 
General  Cass,  set  forth  at  the  end  of 
May,  1820.  Entering  Lake  Huron,  it 
pursued  the  Michigan  shore  to  Macki- 
naw, thence  by  the  Sault  St.  Marie, 
where  an  Indian  council  was  held,  to 
the  copper  region  on  the  southern 
coast  of  Lake  Superior,  advancing  to 
the  Fond  du  Lac,  at  its  most  westerly 
portion.  Ascending  then  the  St.  Louis 
River,  and  crossing  by  the  portages  to 


Lake  du  Sable,  the  Mississippi  Eiver 
was  entered  and  traversed  a  distance 
of  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  to  the 
Upper  Red  Cedar  Lake.  They  then 
descended  the  Mississippi  fourteen  hun- 
dred miles  to  Prairie  du  Chien,  cross- 
ing by  the  Fox  and  Wisconsin  to 
Green  Bay,  whence  General  Cass  re- 
turned to  Detroit,  accomplishing  in 
four  months  a  journey  exceeding  four 
thousand  miles,  "without  the  occur- 
rence of  a  single  untoward  accident 
sufiiciently  important  to  deserve  recol- 
lection." The  interesting  volume  of 
Mr.  Schoolcraft,  "  Travels  from  Detroit 
to  the  Sources  of  the  Mississippi,"  ^Dub- 
lished  in  the  following  year,  made  the 
incidents  of  this  tour  familiar  to  the 
public. 

For  nearly  eighteen  years  General 
Cass  administered  the  government  of 
Michigan,  continuing  the  negotiations 
with  the  Indians,  assisting:  immigra- 
tion,  and  in  every  Avay  developing  the 
resources  of  the  region  under  his 
charge.  It  was  a  position  of  great  care 
and  responsibility,  involving  many  ser- 
vices of  a  novel  character,  which  will 
always  find  their  faithful  record,  be- 
coming of  increasing  interest  as  time  ^ 
separates  the  reader  and  the  progress 
of  civilization  from  this  early  period, 
already,  within  the  lifetime  of  General 
Cass  himself,  grown  antiquated  in  the 
history  of  new  States  of  the  Union. 

In  August,  1831,  General  Cass  was 
appointed  by  President  Jackson,  Secre- 
tary of  War,  on  the  reorganization  of 
the  Cabinet  which  followed  the  resigna- 
tion of  Mr.  Van  Buren.  In  addition  to 
the  political  cares  of  that  anxious  pe- 
riod, which  taxed  tne  energies  of  every 


360 


LEWIS  CASS. 


member  of  that  active  administration, 
and  the  general  duties  of  his  depart- 
ment, General  Cass  had  charge  of  new- 
Indian  negotiations,  and  even  the  con- 
duct of  a  war  with  the  Sacs  and  Foxes, 
led  by  the  famous  chieftain  Black 
Hawk.  Nor  was  this  all.  In  the  same 
year  with  this  latter  conflict  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi, one  of  a  more  portentous  cha- 
racter was  threatened  in  the  nullifica- 
tion threat  of  South  Carolina.  The 
views  of  the  President  in  reference  to 
that  agitation  are  well  known,  as  well 
as  the  measures  he  took  of  counsel  and 
defence  to  maintain  the  integrity  of  the 
Union.  To  General  Cass,  as  Secretary 
of  War,  fell  the  delicate  task  of  commu- 
nicating the  necessary  instructions  to 
General  Scott,  who  was  sent  to  the  re- 
gion to  provide  adequate  security  to 
the  public  property  and  defences  of  the 
nation. 

General  Cass  held  the  office  of  Secre- 
tary of  War  some  three  years  longer, 
into  the  second  term  of  Jackson's  ad- 
ministration, when,  his  health  failing 
under  the  continuous  round  of  labori- 
ous duties  at  Wa.shington,  his  resignar 
tion  was  accepted,  and  he  received  im- 
mediately the  appointment  of  Minister 
to  France.  He  accepted  the  office  with 
the  condition  that  he  might  be  allowed 
to  vary  its  duties  by  travel  in  other 
parts  of  Europe  and  the  East.  The 
coveted  opportunity  presented  itself  in 
183Y,  the  spring  of  the  year  succeeding 
his  entrance  upon  his  new  duties  at 
Paris.  Leaving  Marseilles  in  the  frigate 
Constitution,  commanded  by  Commo- 
dore Elliott,  he  visited  in  turn  the  me- 
morable lands  of  the  Mediterranean, 
sacred  in  history  and  literature,  Eome, 


Sicily,  Malta,  Athens,  the  islands  of  the 
JEgean,  Constantinople,  the  coast  of 
Asia  Minor,  thence  to  Jaffa,  whence  he 
travelled  to  Jerusalem,  Damascus,  and 
Baalbec,  crossing  Lebanon  to  Tripoli, 
where  he  rejoined  the  Constitution. 
Sidon  and  other  places  of  interest  on 
the  coast  were  then  visited,  when  the 
voyage  was  extended  by  way  of  Cyprus 
to  Egypt,  where  he  made  the  tour  of 
the  Nile,  returning  to  Paris  in  Novem- 
ber, after  an  absence  of  eight  months. 
During  the  whole  of  this  journey  he 
was  occupied  with  study  and  observa- 
tion, of  which  he  has  published  many 
interesting  particulars,  of  the  men  and 
condition  of  the  various  lands  which  he 
visited. 

Seated  once  more  at  Paris,  he  had,  in 
the  occupant  of  the  French  throne  of 
that  period,  a  character  to  study  quite 
as  noticeable  as  any  which  he  had  met 
with  on  his  travels.  Louis  Philippe, 
a  portion  of  whose  life  had  been  passed 
in  America,  in  scenes  with  which  the 
pioneer  experiences  of  General  Cass  had 
led  him  to  be  perfectly  familiar,  was 
naturally  attracted  toward  so  intelli- 
gent a  companion  and  ready  listener. 
He  talked  familiarly  with  him  of  his  life 
and  travels,  and  communicated  many 
interesting  circumstances  which,  toge- 
ther with  other  matters  relating  to  the 
nation,  General  Cass  afterwards  gave  to 
the  public  in  a  very  pleasant  volume, 
entitled  "France,  its  King,  Court,  and 
Government." 

In  1842,  General  Cass  was  engaged  in 
his  mission  in  an  elaborate  course  of  op- 
position to  the  Quintuple  Treaty  in  re- 
ference to  the  slave  trade,  proposed  be- 
I  tween  Austria,  Eussia,  Prussia,  France 


LEWIS  CASS. 


361 


and  the  United  States,  one  of  tlie  pro- 
visions of  wliicli  involved  tlie  right  of 
maritime  search.  He  appealed  to  the 
people  of  France  in  a  pamphlet  upon 
the  subject,  discussing  the  motives  of 
the  British  government  and  the  position 
of  his  own,  the  various  essential  and 
practical  bearings  of  the  question,  the 
history  of  the  discussion,  and  an  exami- 
nation of  its  recent  course.  The  treaty 
•was  ratified  neither  by  France  nor  the 
United  States.  The  matter,  however, 
in  the  view  of  General  Cass,  still  existed 
as  ground  of  diplomatic  jealousy  be- 
tween his  own  country  and  England ; 
and,  thinking  the  ground  which  he  had 
taken  not  properly  supported  in  the 
treaty  made  by  Mr.  Webster  with  Lord 
Ashburton,  he  consequently,  in  Septem- 
ber, 1842,  requested  his  recall.  Before 
leaving  Paris,  he  was  entertained  at  a 
complimentary  dinner  given  by  the 
Americans  in  that  city.  He  then  re- 
turned to  America,  landing  at  Boston 
in  December.  Thence  he  hastened  to 
"Washington,  and  shortly  after  pro- 
ceeded to  Detroit,  where  a  hearty  home 
welcome  awaited  him. 

The  remainder  of  his  public  life  is 
familiar  to  the  public.  In  1845,  he  was 
elected  by  the  Legislature  of  Michigan 
to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  and 
held  that  position  till  his  nomination 
to  the  Presidency,  in  1848.  In  the 
general  election  of  that  year  he  was  the 
candidate  for  the  chief  magistracy  of 
the  Democratic  party,  in  opposition  to 
General  Taylor,  the  nominee  of  the 
Whigs.  He  received  the  vote  of  fifteen 
States,  and  an  aggregate  popular  vote 
of  1,223,795,  being  138,447  less  than 


that  of  General  Taylor,  who  was  elected 
by  the  remaining  fifteen  States,  The 
election  being  thus  decided.  General 
Cass  was  returned  to  the  Senate  by  the 
Legislature  of  Michigan  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  period  for  which  he  had 
been  originally  chosen.  In  1851,.  his 
senatorial  term  liaving  expired,  he  was 
again  chosen  senator  for  a  period  of  six 
years.  The  following  year  his  name 
was  again  before  the  democratic  nomi- 
nating convention  as  a  candidate  for  the 
Presidency.  His  election  in  that  body 
appeared  probable  in  the  early  stages 
of  the  balloting,  which  was"  protracted 
for  several  days,  when  Franklin  Pierce 
of  ISTew  Hampshire  received  the  nomi- 
nation. In  the  subsequent  election  of 
1856,  General  Cass  was  a  supporter  of 
Mr.  Buchanan,  who,  on  taking  his  seat 
as  President,  called  his  friend  to  his 
side  as  Secretary  of  State.  There  he 
remained  in  the  honorable  discharge  of 
his  duties  till  near  the  close  of  the  ad- 
ministration, when,  protesting  against 
the  want  of  firmness  which  prevailed 
in  treating  the  rebellion  which  had 
arisen,  and  disheartened  at  the  lack  of 
patriotism  in  the  cabinet,  he  resigned 
his  position  in  December,  1860,  demon- 
strating by  the  act,  in  the  words  of 
Senator  Baker,  of  California,  "  that  he 
loved  his  country  more  than  he  loved 
either  state  or  place,  or  power  or 
party."  ^  He  then  retired  to  his  home 
in  Michigan,  where  on  more  than  one 
occasion  he  has  given  the  encourage- 
ment of  his  voice  and  example  to  the 
War  for  the  Union  into  which  the  na- 
tion was  forced. 

'  Speech  in  the  Senate,  January  2,  1 861. 


ORMSBY  McKNI 


GHT  MITCHEL. 


Oemsby  McKinGHT  Mitchel  was 
born  of  Virginia  parentage,  in  Union 
County,  Kentucky,  August  28t]i,  1810. 
His  fatlier  dying  when  tlie  son  was  but 
two  years  old,  the  family,  in  1816,  re- 
moved to  Lebanon,  Warren  Cotmty, 
Ohio,  where  young  Mitchel  received 
his  first  education.  At  the  early  age 
of  thirteen  he  began  life  as  a  merchant's 
clerk,  serving  in  that  capacity  in  the 
town  of  Piqua,  and  afterwards  in  Leba- 
non and  Xenia.  At  fifteen,  he  was  ap- 
pointed to  a  cadetship  at  West  Point, 
studied  zealously,  and  was  graduated 
in  due  course  in  1829,  ranking  fifteenth 
in  a  class  of  forty-six,  which  included 
Robert  E.  Lee  and  Joseph  E.  Johnston, 
who,  together  with  himself  were  des- 
tined, though  on  opposite  sides,  to  ac- 
quire an  eminent  military  reputation  in 
the  great  conflicts  of  the  unparalleled 
rebellion  in  which  the  fortunes  of  their 
country  were  the  stake.  Young  Mitchel 
now  received  the  rank  of  second  lieuten- 
ant of  artillery.  He  did  not,  however, 
leave  the  Military  Academy,  being  at 
once  appointed  Acting  Assistant  Pro- 
fessor of  Mathematics,  a  position  which 
he  retained  for  two  years,  and  which 
sufficiently  points  out  the  strong  bent 
of  his  mind  and  his  proficiency  while 
in  the  institution.  In  June,  1831, 
Lieutenant  Mitchel  was  employed  in 

862 


the  survey  of  the  Philadelphia  and 
Morristown  railroad,  and  in  the  follow- 
ing September  was  engaged  upon  the 
Pennsylvania  and  Ohio  Railroad,  which 
occupied  him  about  a  month,  when  he 
went  to  his  post  at  St.  Augustine,  Flo- 
rida, destined  subsequently  to  be  in- 
cluded in  his  important  military  com- 
mand. There  he  remained  until  the 
following  June,  when  he  resigned  his 
rank  in  the  army  to  engage  in  the  pro- 
fession of  the  law,-  to  which  he  had  now 
turned  his  studies,  was  admitted  to  the 
bar  in  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  and  was  occu- 
pied in  practice  for  two  years,  when 
the  bent  of  his  disposition  and  the 
course  of  his  original  studies  led  him 
to  open  a  scientific  school.  For  ten 
years,  from  1834  to  1844,  he  held  the 
position  of  Professor  of  Mathematics, 
Philosophy,  and  Astronomy,  at  the  Cin- 
cinnati College,  where  he  won  a  dis- 
tinguished reputation  by  his  scientific 
abilities,  and  his  zeal  and  aptitude  in 
the  discharge  of  his  new  duties.  He 
was  meanwhile  engaged,  from  1836  to 
1837,  as  Chief  Engineer  of  the  Little 
Miami  Railroad,  and  in  1841  was  a 
member  of  the  Board  of  Visitors  to  the 
Military  Academy  at  West  Point.  A 
project  which  grew  out  of  his  professor- 
ship now  engaged  all  the  enthusiasm 
of  his  susceptible  nature.    This  was 


I 


ORMSBY  Mcknight  mitchel. 


SG3 


tlie  establislinient  of  an  observatory  at 
Cincinnati,  an  undertaking  beset  witli 
many  difficulties  wlucli  were  finally 
overcome  by  liis  energy  and  perse- 
verance. He  not  only  took  upon  him- 
self, we  are  told,  to  raise  the  necessary 
funds,  but  even  devoted  all  the  time 
lie  could  spare  from  liis  duties  as 
professor,  to  oversee  the  hod-carriers 
and  bricklayers.  In  November,  1843, 
the  corner-stone  of  the  observatory  was 
laid  by  John  Quincy  Adams,  and  the 
building  was  completed  in  1845,  when 
Professor  Mitchel,  to  supply  the  insti- 
tution with  the  necessary  apparatus, 
made  a  fiying  trip  to  Europe,  visiting 
Loudon,  Paris,  and  Munich,  making  his 
contracts,  and  returning  to  Cincinnati, 
after  an  absence  of  only  fourteen  weeks. 
He  now  took  up  his  quarters  at  the  ob- 
servatory, and  comraenced  his  observa- 
tions of  the  heavenly  bodies,  in  connec- 
tion with  which  he  invented  a  new 
declination  apparatus,  which  he  made 
the  sul'jject  of  a  report  to  the  Ameri- 
can Association  for  the  Advancement 
of  Science,  and  which  was  favorablj- 
reported  upon  by  a  committee  of  that 
body.  In  1846,  he  began  and  con- 
tinued the  publication  for  two  years  of 
an  astronomical  journal  entitled  the 
"Siderial  Messenger."  In  1847,  he 
held  the  position  of  Adjutant-Greneral 
of  the  State  of  Ohio.  In  1848,  he  pub- 
lished a  series  of  ten  lectures,  a  popular 
exposition  of  the  modern  astronomy,  in 
a  volume  entitled  "  The  Planetaiy  and 
Stellar  Worlds,"  which,  from  his  repute 
as  a  lecturer,  and  its  intrinsic  merits, 
was  received  with  general  favor.  He 
was  the  same  year  appointed  Chief  En- 
gineer of  the  Ohio  and  Mississipp-i  Eail- 1 


road.  In  1859,  he  was  made  Director 
of  the  Dudley  Observatory,  at  All^any, 
still  holding  his  supervision  of  the 
similar  institution  at  Cincinnati.  In 
18G0,  he  published  a  second  volume  of 
popular  astronomy,  "A  concise  Ele- 
mentary Treatise  on  the  Sun,  Planets, 
Satelites,  and  Comets,"  in  which  he 
presented  the  result  of  his  own  obser- 
vations and  the  new  methods  wliich 
he  had  employed  in  the  observatories 
at  Cincinnati  and  Albany. 

From  this  useful  career,  in  which,  by 
his  lectures  in  the  chief  cities  he  had 
excited  the  enthusiasm  of  his  country- 
men for  his  favorite  science,  the  out- 
break of  the  Kebellion  called  Professor 
Mitchel  to  new  duties  in  the  resump- 
tion of  his  early  military  employments. 
He  was  among  the  foremost  to  appre- 
ciate the  demands  of  the  times.  In  the 
memorable  meeting  at  Union  Square, 
in  the  city  of  ISTew  York,  on  the  t^ven- 
tieth  of  April,  1861,  a  week  after  the 
fall  of  Sumter,  he  addressed  the  vast 
assembly  in  words  of  stirring  eloquence. 
Recalling  his  early  days,  when,  in  his 
own  words,  "  a  poor  boy,  working  my 
way  with  my  own  hands,  at  the  age  of 
twelve,  I  turned  out  to  take  care  of 
myself  as  best  I  could,  and  beginning 
by  earning  but  four  dollars  a  month ; 
I  worked  my  way  onward  until  this 
glorious  government  gave  me  a  chance 
at  the  Military  Academy  at  West  Point, 
where  I  landed  with  a  knapsack  on  my 
back  and,  I  tell  you  God's  truth — just 
a  quai-ter  of  a  dollar  in  my  pocket,"  he 
vowed  anew  faithfulness  to  the  nation 
to  which  he  had  then  sworn  allegiance, 
No  one  estimated  more  truly  the  sacri- 
fices which  would  be  required  in  the 


364 


ORMSBY  Mcknight  mitcttel. 


War  for  the  Union,  and  no  one  was 
more  ready  to  make  them.  "I  only 
ask,"  he  exclaimed,  "  to  be  permitted  to 
act,  and  in  God's  name  give  me  some- 
thino;  to  do." 

The  proffer  was  not  neglected.  In 
August,  1861,  Professor  Mitchel  was 
appointed  brigadier-general  of  volun- 
teers, and  ordered  to  the  Department 
of  the  Ohio.  He  was  usefully  employed 
in  the  oro;anization  of  the  force  which 
was  raised  in  Kentucky,  and  took  the 
field  at  the  head  of  an  important  divi- 
sion in  General  Buell's  army,  in  the  ad- 
vance upon  Bowling  Green,  in  Febru- 
ary, 1862.  A  general  order  to  his 
troops  on  that  occasion  was  significant 
of  the  energy  and  rapidity  of  his  move- 
ments. In  stirring  words,  commemo- 
rating their  activity  in  a  march  of  forty 
miles  in  twenty-eight  hours  and  a  half, 
and  the  flight  of  the  foe,  he  concluded : 
"  I  trust  you  feel  precisely  as  does  your 
commanding  general,  that  nothing  is 
done  while  anything  remains  to  be 
done."  Another  order  of  General 
Mitchel,  dated  on  tl  e  soil  of  Alabama, 
at  Huntsville,  records  the  victorious 
progress  of  his  division :  "  Soldiers, 
your  march  upon  Bowling  Green 
won  the  thanks  and  confidence  of 
your  commanding  general.  With  en- 
gines and  cars  captured  from  the 
enemy,  our  advance  guard  precipitated 
itself  upon  Nashville.  It  was  now 
made  your  duty  to  seize  and  destroy 
the  Memphis  and  Charleston  Eailway, 
the  great  military  road  of  the  enemy. 
Witli  a  supply  train  only  sufficient  to 
feed  you  at  a  distance  of  two  days' 
march  from  your  depot,  you  undertook 
tilt'  lierculean  task  of  rebuilding  twelve 


hundred  feet  of  heavy  bridging,  which, 
by  your  untiring  energy,  was  accom- 
plished in  ten  days.  Thus,  by  a  rail- 
way of  your  own  construction,  your 
depot  of  supplies  was  removed  from 
Nashville  to  Shelbyville,  nearly  sixty 
miles,  in  the  direction  of  the  object  of 
your  attack.  The  blow  now  became 
practicable.  Marching  with  a  celerity 
such  as  to  outstrip  any  messenger  who 
might  have  attempted  to  announce 
your  coming,  you  fell  upon  Huntsville, 
taking  your  enemy  completely  by  sur- 
prise, and  capturing  not  only  his  great 
military  road,  but  all  his  machine- 
shops,  engines,  and  rolling-stock.  Thus 
providing  yourself  with  ample  trans- 
portation, you  have  struck  blow  after 
blow  with  a  rapidity  unparalleled. 
Stevenson  fell,  sixty  miles  to  the  east 
of  Huntsville,  Decatur  and  Tuscumbia 
have  been  in  like  manner  seized  and 
are  now  occupied.  In  three  days  you 
have  extended  your  front  of  operations 
more  than  one  hundred  and  twenty 
miles,  and  your  morning  gun  at  Tus- 
cumbia may  now  be  heard  by  your 
comrades  on  the  battle-field  recently 
made  glorious  by  their  victory  before 
Corinth."  For  these  and  other  services 
in  Alabama,  General  Mitchel  was  pro- 
moted to  be  Major-General. 

His  next  important  sphere  of  duty 
was  in  South  Carolina,  where  in  Sep- 
tember, 1862,  he  succeeded  General 
Hunter  in  the  command  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  South.  There,  after  be- 
stowing attention  upon  the  military 
affairs  of  his  department,  he  became  at 
once  engaged  in  efforts  to  improve  the 
condition  of  the  negro  population,  the 
refugees  and  others  who  had  gathered 


ORMSBY  McKNIGTTT  MITCHEL. 


365 


around  his  lieadquarters  at  Port  Royal, 
and  at  tlie  adjacent  islands.  With  liis 
accustomed  enthusiasm,  he  spared  no 
pains  of  Avord  or  deed  to  arouse  their 
energies  and  fit  tliem  for  the  new  career 
before  them.  After  addressina;  a  laree 
assembly  of  the  hitherto  despised  race, 
at  the  opening  of  a  churcli  built  for 
their  use,  he  wrote  to  Secretary  Chase 
at  Washington  :  "  I  have  spoken  to  tlie 
6lite  of  Boston,  the  solid,  and  the  scien- 
tific, and  the  literary  men  of  that 
learned  city;  I  have  spoken  to  the 
fashionable  crowds  of  New  York,  in 
the  Academy  of  Music ;  I  have  spoken 
to  the  rich  and  proud  citizens  of  New 
Orleans ;  1  have  spoken  to  multitudes 
in  almost  every  State  in  the  Union,  but 
I  do  not  think  I  ever  addressed  any 
audience  wliose  presence  touched  me 
more  deej^ly  than  the  sable  multitude 
to  whom  I  endeavored  to  utter  words 
of  encouragement  and  hope  yesterday." 
Such  was  the  spirit  of  General  Mitchel 
in  whatever  his  hand  found  to  do. 

A  fortnight  after  this  was  written,  be- 
fore the  new  general  had  opportunity — 
beyond  several  reconnoisances  which  he 
ordered — to  test  the  military  spirit  of 
his  department,  he  was  suddenly  cut  off 
in  the  midst  of  his  labors.  General 
Mitchel  died  after  a  brief  illness  of  yel- 
low fever,  at.  Beaufort,  on  the  thirtieth 
of  October.    His  remains  were  brouo-ht 
to  New  York,  and  after  simple  services 
at  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims,  in  Brook- 
lyn, with  no  display,  military  or  civic, 
were  interred  in  the  neighboring  Green- 
wood Cemetery. 

The  moral  and  intellectual  traits,  the 
personal  character  of  General  Mitchel, 
n. — i6 


have  been  well  described  by  a  shrewd 
and  cultivated  observer,  the  Rev.  Henry 
Norman  Hudson,  an  ai'my  chaplain  at 
Hilton  Head,  who  joyfully  greeted  his 
arrival  in  the  Southern  Department. 
"  In  person  he  is  rather  spare,  in  stature 
rather  short;  with  a  head  capacious, 
finely  shaped  and  firmly  set,  an  attrac- 
tive and  beaming  countenance,  every 
feature  and  every  motion  full  of  intelli- 
gence and  animation.    Therewithal,  he 
is  a  man  of  keen  discernment  and  large 
discourse;  swift-thoughted,  fluent,  and 
eloquent  of  speech,  free  and  genial  in 
his  dispositions,  quick  and  firm  of  pur- 
pose, of  clear  and  intense  perceptions, 
and  sound  and  steady  judgment.  All 
who  have  met  him  in  the  lecture-room 
must  have  admired  the  enthusiasm  and 
whole-souledness  of  the  man  in  what- 
ever he  does  or  says.    Yet  a  strong 
force  of  judiciousness  goes  hand-in-hand 
with  his  enthusiasm.    He  is  indeed 
brilliant,  but  not  flashing;   his  bril- 
liancy is  that  of  a  solid,  not  of  a  sur- 
face.   Whether  discoursing   the  har- 
mony of  the  stars,  or  the  cause  of  his 
betrayed  and  bleeding  country,  he  is 
still  the  same  embodiment  of  energy 
and    eloquence,   with   a  remarkable 
power  of  tickling  his  hearers,  and  flash- 
ing his  energy  through  them.   In  brief, 
his  mind  abounds  in  sinew  and  grip, 
and  his  spirit  is  brim-full  of  what  we 
call  snap ;  the  two  together  making 
him  bold  and  strong  in  conception, 
rapid  and  fiery  in  execution.    As  a 
military  commander  he  has,  perhaps, 
more  of  the  fdicitas  audax  in  his  com- 
position than  any  other  of  our  generals 
now  in  the  field." 


JOHN  E. 


WOOL. 


MAJOE-GrElSrEKAL  JoHN  E.  WooL  is  a 
native  of  the  State  of  New  York.  He 
was  "born  at  Newburgh,  Orange  County, 
about  the  year  1*784,  of  a  family  which 
had  been  distinguished  for  its  services 
in  the  War  of  the  Revolution.  Five 
of  the  sons  of  his  grandfather,  James 
Wool,  a  respectable  farmer  of  Rensse- 
laer County,  bore  arms  in  that  strug- 
gle. Two  were  captured  at  Fort  Wash- 
ington, and   experienced  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  New  Jersey  Prison  ship ; 
one  became  a  captain  in  Lamb's  regi- 
ment of  artillery,  and  was  with  Mont- 
gomery at  Quebec  ;  a  fourth  was  with 
Stark  at  Bennington;  the  fifth,  the 
father  of  Major-General  Wool,  was  with 
"Mad  Antony"  at  the  storming  of 
Stoney  Point — a  respectable  military 
lineao-e  for  an  American  soldier  of  the 
nineteenth  century.    Young  Wool,  we 
are  told,  had   barely  completed  his 
fourth  year  when  his  father  died.  .  He 
was  then  taken  to  his  grandfather's 
farmer's  home,  and  had  such  advan- 
tages of  education  as  a  country  school 
afforded.    They  were  of  course  limited 
and  of  no  long  continuance,  for  at  the 
age  of  twelve  the  boy  was  placed  in  a- 
merchant's  store  in  Troy,  where  he  con- 
tinued till  eighteen,  when  he  opened  a 
book  and  stationary  store  on  his  own 
account.    Driven  from  this  by  a  fire 

866 


which  consumed  his  stock,  he  took  re- 
fuge in  the  law  and  pursued  the  study 
for  more  than  a  year  with  avidity,  in 
the  of&ce  of  John  Russell,  an  eminent 
practitioner  of  Troy. 

The  perseverance  and  energy  which 
he  has  since  displayed  on  other  fields 
would,  no  doubt,  have  crowned  his 
labors  in  the  profession  with  success, 
had  he  not  been  directed  to  an  entirely 
different  mode  of  life  by  an  opening  in 
public  affairs  which  controlled  so  many 
of  the  spirited  young  men  of  his  gene- 
ration.   The  second  war  with  Great 
Britain  was  about  to  be  declared,  and 
new  levies  of  volunteers  were  called 
into  the  field.     The  army  suddenly 
offered  honorable  means  of  support  fas- 
cinating to  the  youthful  mind.  The 
traditions  of  arms  were  recent  in  the 
family  of  young  Wool,  and  he  natu- 
rally sought  a  commission.     In  the 
spring  of  1812,  on  the  eve  of  the  decla- 
ration of  war,  with  the  recommenda- 
tion of  Governor  Clinton,  he  received  his 
appointment  as  captain  in  the  Thir- 
teenth regiment  of  United  States  In- 
fantry.   He  immediately  set  to  work 
recruiting  his  company,  joined  his  regi- 
ment at  Greenbush,  and  in  September, 
proceeded  with  the  regiment  to  the 
Niagara  frontier.    He  was  in  time  for 
General  Van  Rensselaer's  famous  at- 


i 


JOHN  E.  WOOL. 


367 


tempt  upon  tlie  lieiglits  of  Queens- 
town. 

In  the  arrano-ement  of  tliat  assault 
it  was  designed  tliat  the  force  first 
crossiuo-  the  river  shoukl  consist  of 
equal  parties  of  regulars  and  militia. 
Colonel  Chrj^stie,  in  whose  ranks  Cap- 
tain Wool  was  stationed,  commanding 
the  former  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Van 
Eensselaer  the  latter.    The  boats  were 
arranged  on  the  mornino;  of  the  thir- 
teenth  of  October  for  this  simultaneous 
movement.    The  force  ready  to  cross 
consisted  of  about  three  hundred  men 
of  each  division.    Owino-  to  an  insuffi- 
cient  supply  of  boats,  it  was  impossible 
at  once  to  transport  both  jDarties,  and 
in  the  haste  and  confusion  the  regulars 
were  naturally  the  first  to  gain  the  ad- 
vantage.   The  thirteen  boats  which  set 
out  were  mostly  filled  by  the  soldiers 
of  the  Thirteenth  regiment.    Ten  of 
them  landed  in  safety,  three  miscarried, 
and  in  one  of  the  latter  was  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Chrystie.    This  accident  threw 
the  command  of  the  regulars  into  the 
hands  of  Captain  John  E.  Wool.  Upon 
his  energy  the  first  success  of  the  day, 
so  disastrous  in  its  issue,  was  to  de- 
pend. 

The  British  defences  at  Queenstown 
at  the  opening  of  the  attack  consisted 
of  a  battery  on  the  heights,  manned  by 
two  companies  of  the  Forty-ninth,  with 
another  battery  below  on  the  river. 
The  former  were  speedily  reinforced, 
and  a  destructive  fire  from  the  whole 
body  was  thrown  upon  the  advancing 
columns  of  the  Americans.  It  was 
Van  Kensselaer's  intention  to  storm  the 
heights,  and  for  this  purpose  Wool's 
command  was  moved  forward  to  the 


base  of  the  hill.    While  in  line,  wait- 
ing further  orders,  an  attack  was  made 
upon  this  party  by  the  British  Avhich 
inflicted  serious  losses  in  its  ranks.  Six 
out  of  ten  officers  of  Wool's  command 
were  killed  or  wounded.    He  himself 
was   among   the   latter,   being  shot 
through  both  thighs ;  yet  in  this  con- 
dition he  led  one  of  the  boldest  move- 
ments of  the  day.    Van  Rensselaer  was 
also  seriously  wounded.    Though  the 
enemy  were  repulsed  in  this  conflict,  a 
retreat  of  the  Americans  seemed  in- 
evitable, when  Wool,  doul^ly  wounded 
as  he  was,  undertook  to   scale  the 
heights  and  storm  the  defences.  He 
was  gallantly  seconded  by  his  ofiicers. 
Choosing  a  somewhat  sheltered  posi- 
tion under  a  precipice,  the  ascent  was 
commenced,  the  men  now  lifting  them- 
selves by  the  bushes,  now  suj^jporting 
themselves  by  their  muskets,  till  a 
neglected  fisherman's  path  was  struck, 
which  aided  the  movement.    The  sum- 
mit was    thus   gained   without  the 
loss   of  a  man.    The  small  force  at 
the  works  was  taken  by  surprise,  and 
compelled  precipitately  to  retreat.  The 
American  colors  were  raised,  "  greeting 
the  rising  sun,  proclaiming  at  once  the 
triumph  of  the  Thirteenth  regiment  and 
the  success  of  the  expedition."  ^ 

In  the  retreating  party  was  General 
Sir  Isaac  Brock,  the  British  Commander- 
in-chief  on  this  frontier,  who,  having 
the  line  from  the  mouth  of  the  Niagara 
river  to  guard,  had  hastened  on  the  first 
alarm,  from  his  quarters  at  Fort  George, 
to  reconnoitre  the  American  movement. 


*  Mr.  Dawscti's  Buttles  of  the  United  States,  II.  153. 
Mr.  Dawson  -wi-kes  with  the  aid  of  (iriginal  memoranda  of 
the  battle  by  General  Wool. 


368  JOHN  E. 

Ordering  bis  troops  in  reserve  to  ad- 
vance to  the  scene  of  tlie  invasion,  he 
now  put  himself  at  the  head  of  tlie  de- 
tacliment  on  the  spot, 'and  moved  to- 
wards the  force  of  Captain  Wool,  who 
held  a  position  in  the  rear  of  the  bat- 
tery above  the  village.  The  Ameri- 
cans, unable  to  sustain  themselves 
against  superior  numbers,  were  driven 
to  tlie  high  bank  of  the  river,  when 
one  of  the  ofiicers  raised  a  white  hand- 
kerchief in  sign  of  surrender.  Captain 
Wool,  with  his  own  hands,  removed 
the  signal,  exhorting  his  men  to  resist 
to  the  last,  and  not  to  yield  without 
a  final  resort  to  the  bayonet.  When 
their  ammunition  was  nearly  exhausted 
the  charge  was  made,  resulting  in  a 
partial  repulse  of  the  enemy.  Gen- 
eral Brock  being  now  reinforced  was 
leading  on  his  troops  to  a  fresh  at- 
tack when  he  fell  mortally  wounded 
by  a  musket  ball.  This  event  inspired 
his  command  with  fresh  vigor  in  the 
desire  for  revenge,  but  their  effort 
was  unavailing  against  the  determined 
opposition  of  Captain  Wool  and  his 
unflinching  band.  He  remained  mas- 
ter of  the  position,  ten  prisoners  and  a 
captured  Indian  chief  being  among  the 
proofs  of  the  victory.  This  was  the 
condition  of  the  valiant  handful  of 
Americans  at  two  o'clock  in  the  day, 
when,  reinforcements  having  added  to 
their  numbers,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Win- 
field  Scott  crossed  the  river  to  take 
the  command,  and  experience  his  share 
of  the  fortunes  of  the  day.  Captain 
Wool  then  retired  to  pay  much 
needed  attention  to  his  neglected 
wounds. 

For  this  service  Captain  Wool  was 


WOOL. 

created  Major,  his  commission  bearing 
date  the  day  of  the  battle  of  Queens- 
town,  October  13,  1812.  He  was  at- 
tached to  the  Twenty-ninth  regiment 
of  infantry,  and  continued  to  be  em- 
ployed in  the  defence  of  the  frontier. 
On  the  invasion  by  the  British  on  the 
line  of  Lake  Champlain,  in  September 
1814,  he  rendered  important  assistance 
to  General  Macomb  in  the  military 
movement  at  Plattsburgh  and  its  vicin- 
ity. On  the  first  advance  of  the  enemy 
he  was  sent  by  General  Macomb  with 
a  small  force  of  two  hundred  and  fifty 
men  to  strengthen  the  militia,  seven 
hundred  in  number,  stationed  on  the 
upper  road  at  the  village  of  Beekman- 
town.  The  approaching  British  column 
was  composed  of  thousands  of  veteran 
troops.  There  could,  of  course,  under 
such  circumstances,  be  nothing  more 
than  a  dignified  retreat.  That  it  was 
a  well-conducted  retreat,  repulsing  at 
one  moment  the  head  of  the  enemy's 
column  and  retarding  the  movement 
at  various  points,  was  due  to  the  energy 
of  Major  Wool,  who,  with  his  regulars, 
rallied  the  militiamen  to  the  work,  and 
availed  himself  of  every  means  of  re- 
sistance in  his  path.  General  Macomb 
in  his  despatch  called  the  attention  of 
the  Government  to  this  heroic  incident 
of  the  day,  and  Major  Wool  was,  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  bravery,  brevetted 
Lieutenant-Colonel. 

In  1816  Colonel  Wool  was  made  an 
army  inspector,  the  office  being  en- 
larged in  1821  to  that  of  inspector- 
general.  The  duties  of  this  office  em- 
brace an  examination  of  the  entii*e 
routine  and  morale  of  the  army  at  its 
different  posts,  the  efficiency  of  officers 


JOHN   E.  WOOL. 


309 


and  men,  tlie  condition  and  economical 
management  of  all  the  material  of  war. 
The  inspector  is  to  exercise  a  general 
supervision  of  all  these  matters,  and  be 
j)repared  with  special  reports  to  the 
government  on  the  state  of  the  service 
when  information  may  be  needed.  The 
performance  of  these  home  duties  was 
varied  by  a  visit  of  General  Wool  to 
Europe  in  1832,  for  the  purpose  of  ac- 
quiring an  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
foreign  discipline  and  tactics,  and  im- 
provements in  the  art  of  war.  His 
reception  by  Louis  Philippe,  then  on 
the  French  throne,  and  by  the  King  of 
Belgium,  was  cordial,  and  opened  to 
him  every  facility  in  pursuing  his  mili- 
tary investigations.  He  witnessed  a 
grand  review  b}^  the  side  of  the  King 
of  the  French  of  seventy  thousand  men, 
and  was  present  with  the  King  of  Bel- 
gium, at  a  still  larger  review  of  one 
hundred  thousand.  He  also  witnessed 
the  proceedings  at  the  famous  siege  of 
Antwerp. 

In  1836  he  was  employed  in  the  re- 
moval of  the  Cherokee  Indians  to  their 
new  home  in  Arkansas,  a  duty  which 
required  both  delicacy  and  firmness. 
In  1838  we  find  him  engaged  in  a  mili- 
tar}^  reconnoisance  in  Maine,  on  occasion 
of  the  boundary  dispute  with  Great 
Britain.  In  .  1841  he  was  commissioned 
Brigadier-General  in  the  line,  having 
held  the  rank  of  Brevet  Bria-aclier-Ge- 
neral  since  1826.  The  Mexican  War, 
of  course,  called  him  into  the  field. 
He  was  early  summoned  to  Washing- 
ton by  the  government,  on  the  actual 
outbreak  of  hostilities,  in  1845,  and  be- 
came engaged  in  concentrating  the 
troops  at  the  Eastward  for  a  movement 


to  the  seat  of  hostilities.    The  next 
year  in  May,  he  was  ordered  by  the 
department  to  proceed  to  Ohio,  and  or- 
ganize and  muster  into  service  a  large 
force  of  volunteers  from  that  State, 
Kentucky,  Indiana,  Illinois,  and  Missis- 
sippi.   He  received  his  instructions  on 
the  thirtieth  of  May;  on  the  fifth  of 
the  next  month  he  was  in  the  midst  of 
his  duties  at  Columbus,  holding  corres- 
pondence with  the  governors  of  the 
States  from  which  his  force  was  to  be 
drawn,  and  with  the  subordinate  mili- 
tary officers  who  stood  between  him 
and  the  recruits.    Such  was  his  effi- 
ciency that  in  six  weeks,  by  July  11th, 
he  had  organized  a  body  of  twelve 
thousand  men.  This  duty  accomplished, 
he  was  ordered  to  San  Antonio  in 
Texas,  where,  having  concentrated  his 
troops,  he  was  to  take  command  of  an 
expedition  planned  against  the  Mexican 
province  of  Chihuahua.  Leaving  Alton, 
Illinois,  on  the  fifteenth  of  July,  the 
tv/enty-sixth  found  him  at  New  Orleans, 
the  first  of  August  saw  him  landing  his 
troops  at  Lavacca,  Texas,  and  the  four- 
teenth witnessed  his   arrival  at  the 
place  of  rendezvous,  San  Antonio.  It 
was  the  intention  to   deal  a  blow 
at  the  enemy  by  revolutionizing  one 
of  his  important  northern  provinces,  ' 
supposed  to  be  of  great  value  to  the 
capitaL  The  expedition,  however,  might 
have  proved  of  little  value  in  this 
respect,  had  it  been  carried  out  as  an- 
ticipated, but  it  was  found  to  be  im- 
practicable, and  was  abandoned.  Ge- 
neral Wool  accomplished,  in  little  more 
than  a  month,  betv/een  the  26th  Sep- 
tember and  29th  of  October,  a  march  of 
six  hundred  miles  to  Monclova,  with  a 


370  JOHN  E. 

force  of  about  six  hundred  regulars  and 
twenty-three  hundred  volunteers,  in- 
cluding Colonel  Harney's  companies  of 
Dragoons,  Captain  Washington's  com- 
pany of  Artillery,  Captain  Bonneville's 
two  companies  of  U.  S.  Infantry,  a  re- 
giment of  Arkansas  Cavalry  under  Col- 
onel Yell,  Colonel  Hardin's  two  regi- 
ments of  Illinois  Infantry,  and  Captain 
Williams'  single  company  of  Kentucky 
Cavalry.  It  was  the  period  of  repose, 
after  the  victory  at  Monterey,  one  of  tlie 
interludes  in  this  singular  war  which 
was  encouraged  and  protracted  hy  the 
vain  negotiations  for  peace,  and  empty 
reliance  upon  the  friendship  and  power 
of  Santa  Anna.  General  Worth,  from 
his  resting-place,  fully  impressed  with 
the  diflaculties  of  the  undertaking,  saw 
that  the  northern  expedition  which  had 
been  projected  for  him  beyond  the 
mountains,  even  were  it  successfully 
accomplished,  would  be  fruitless  of  re- 
sults. He  therefore  advised  General 
Taylor  to  make  a  better  disposition  of 
the  troops,  by  uniting  them  with  his 
own  force  in  a  position  where  they 
could  make  head  against  General  Santa 
•  Anna,  who  was  concentrating  his  forces 
at  San  Luis  de  Potosi. 

The  wisdom  of  this  counsel  was  evi- 
dent, and  the  proper  discretion  having 
been  reposed  in  General  Taylor  by  the 
War  Department,  he  withdrew  General 
Wool's  command  from  its  route  to  Chi- 
huahua, and  stationed  it  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  his  own  operations  at 
Parras,  At  this  town  General  Wool 
governed  with  the  same  discretion 
which  he  had  shown  at  Monclova,  and 
such,  we  are  told,  was  the  excellence 
of  his  management,  and  the  conduct  of 


WOOL. 

his  force,  that  upon  his  being  summoned 
to  the  aid  of  General  Worth,  a  hundred 
miles  distant,  at  Saltillo,  "  only  fourteen 
of  his  men  were  too  sick  to  march,  and 
the  ladies  of  Parras  contended  for  the 
privilege  of  nursing  them."^  This 
friendly  reception  of  the  American 
troops  by  the  people  on  the  frontier,  is 
a  feature  of  the  war  highly  creditable  to 
the  officers  employed  and  the  spirit  of 
the  men  whom  they  commanded.  It  is 
proof  alike  of  their  energy  and  their  for- 
bearance. An  ill  regulated  force  never 
would  have  challenged  respect ;  an  in- 
humane one  never  could  have  ob- 
tained it. 

On  the  twenty-first  of  December, 
General  Wool  was  at  Agua  Nueva,  nine 
hundred  miles  distant  from  his  place 
of  disembarkation  at  Port  Lavacca,  in 
Texas,  in  communication  with  Generals 
Butler  and  Worth,  who  were  watching 
the  movements  of  Santa  Anna.  At 
this  crisis  a  large  portion  of  the  troops 
of  General  Taylor,  including  the  com- 
mand of  General  Worth,  were  witli- 
drawn  by  General  Scott  for  his  opera- 
tions against  the  City  of  Mexico,  by  the 
line  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  the  plan  of  ope- 
rations of  the  battle  having  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  Santa  Anna,  by  an  inter- 
cepted despatch,  it  was  thought  by 
some  that  the  Mexican  General,  leaving 
behind  him  the  diminished  force  on  the 
Kio  Grande,  would  turn  his  attention 
to  the  new  scene  of  the  war.  -  He  de- 
termined, on  the  contrary,  however, 
first  to  strike  a  blow  at  the  little  army 
of  General  Taylor,  who,  with  character- 
istic hardihood,  resolved  to  meet  him 

'  Biography  of  General  Wool  in  the  Democratic  Re 
I  view,  Nov.  1851. 


JOHN  E.  WOOL. 


in  the  field.  The  result  is  told  in  the 
battle  of  Buena  Vista. 

This  eno-ao-ement  commenced  on  the 
twenty-second  of  February,  184:7.  The 
spot  chosen  to  make  a  stand  against 
the  advancing  army  of  Santa  Anna  at 
the  pass  of  Angostura,  was  admirably 
chosen  for  defence,  and  had  been  first 
pointed  out  as  an  advantageous  battle- 
ground by  General  Wool,  when  he 
passed  by  it,  in  one  of  the  movements 
of  his  troops  on  his  arrival  in  the  re- 
gion two  months  before.  To  him  now 
fell  the  first  disposition  of  the  troops 
on  the  field  as  the  enemy  advanced. 
General  Taylor  conducting  a  portion 
of  his  command  to  Saltillo,  a  few  miles 
in  advance,  left  the  command  of  the 
rear  and  the  preparations  for  the  de- 
fence to  General  Wool.  He  had  three 
thousand  men  under  his  orders,  nearly 
three-fourths  of  the  entire  army,  which 
had  but  four  hundred  and  seventy-six 
regulars  in  all.  His  first  act  was  to 
take  possession  of  the  road  at  the  cen- 
tre of  the  pass,  by  throwing  up  para- 
pets, and  stationing  there  the  battery 
of  Captain  Washington,  supported  by 
an  excellent  disposition  of  the  several 
companies  on  the  right  and  left,  and  in 
the  rear.  The  ground  was  naturally  de- 
fended on  one  side  by  the  mountain,  on 
the  other  by  deeply- w^orn  channels  or  fis- 
sures, and  ravines  in  front.  These  dispo- 
sitions were  all  made  by  General  Wool 
early  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty- 
second,  before  General  Taylor,  who  had 
passed  the  night  at  Saltillo,  came  up 
with  Bragg's  and  Sherman's  batteries 
from  that  place.  At  eleven  o'clock, 
Santa  Anna  summoned  the  little  force  to 
surrender  to  his  twenty  thousand  men,  a 


3Y1 

proposition  which  General  Taylor  "  de- 
clined acceding  to,"  and  the  day  was 
spent  in  movements  preliminary  to  the 
encounter.  General  Taylor  again  passed 
the  night  at  Saltillo,  looking  after  its 
defences ;  and,  before  he  returned  the 
next  morning,  the  battle  had  begun, 
General  Wool  being  again  in  command 
on  the  field.  The  attack  was  made 
with  great  vigor  by  Santa  Anna,  who 
sent  forward  his  force  in  three  divi- 
sions. It  is  not  necessary  here  to  re- 
count the  varying  fortunes  of  the  day. 
In  the  conduct  of  the  engagement,  as 
well  after  the  arrival  of  General  Taylor 
as  before,  no  less  than  in  the  effective 
arrangements  at  the  outset.  General 
Wool  was  one  of  the  master-spirits  of 
the  day,  fully  sharing  the  honors  with 
the  Gommander-in-chief 

Again  the  government  was  called  upon 
to  reward  his  services  by  promotion 
earned  in  the  field.  As  before.  Queens- 
town  and  Plattsburgh,  so  now  Buena 
Vista  yielded  its  honors.  For  "  gal- 
lant and  distinguished  conduct  "  that 
day  Brigadier-General  Wool  was  bre- 
vetted  Major-General.  He  continued  in 
command  at  Saltillo,  until  General  Tay- 
lor left  for  the  United  States  in  No- 
vember, when  he  succeeded  to  the 
entire  command  on  the  Rio  Grande, 
which  he  held  till  the  war  was  ended. 
Returning  homeward  by  the  way  of 
New  Orleans,  Cincinnati,  and  Wash- 
ington, in  August,  1848,  he  reached  his 
residence  at  Troy,  New  York,  where  an 
enthusiastic  welcome  awaited  him. 

In  1854  General  Wool  was  called 
from  his  residence  at  Troy,  the  head- 
quarters of  his  military  department  of 
the  Eastjibo  the  government  of  the  de^ 


372 


JOHN  E.  WOOL. 


partment  of  the  Pacific,  at  a  time  when 
the  peace  of  the  couutiy  was  tlireatenecl 
by  "  fillibuster  "  movements  in  that  re- 
gion. After  accomplishing  the  object 
of  his  mission  in  this  respect,  he  was 
called  to  Oregon,  where  his  efforts  were 
successfully  directed  to  quelling  a  for- 
midable outbreak  of  the  Indians.  At 
the  end  of  three  years  General  "Wool 
returned  home,  to  be  again  called  into 
active  service  on  the  outbreak  of  the 
great  Rebellion.  When  that  disastrous 
event  occurred  he  was  one  of  the  fore- 
most to  rouse  the  spirit  of  the  nation 
hy  speech  and  pen,  to  a  sense  of  the 
new  duties  imposed  upon  it.  In  the 
State  of  New  York  he  was  at  once  em- 
ployed in  the  organization  of  troops  for 
the  field,  and  in  August,  1861,  was 
called  to  the  imj)ortant  command  of 
the  South-Eastern  District  of  Virginia, 
with  his  head-quarters  at  Fortress 
Monroe.  His  command  in  this  region 
was  signalized  in  May,  1862,  by  the 
success  of  an  expedition  which  he  led 
in  person,  to  the  capture  of  Norfolk. 
When  General  McClellan  was  placed 


in  command  of  the  entire  force  of  the 
district,  General  Wool  was  assigned 
the  Department  of  Maryland,  with  his 
head-quarters  at  Baltimore.  A  few 
days  after  he  received  the  surrender  of 
Norfolk,  his  nomination  as  Major-Gene- 
ral  of  the  United  States  Army  was  con- 
firmed by  the  Senate,  he  having  pre- 
viously to  this  time  held  the  rank  of 
Brigadier-General  and  Major-General  by 
brevet.  After  some  months  passed  at 
Baltimore,  in  the  important  duties  of 
his  command,  he  retired  to  assume  a 
new  appointment,  in  the  superintend- 
ance  of  the  Eastern  Department. 

In  addition  to  his  military  duties, 
General  Wool  is  known  to  the  public 
as  a  prominent  member  of  the  De- 
mocratic party.  •  In  1850  he  delivered 
the  address  at  Wcybridge,  Vermont, 
on  occasion  of  the  completion  of  a  mo- 
nument to  Silas  Wright.  His  pen  also 
has  been  often  employed  in  compo- 
sitions of  public  interest,  in  reply  to 
various  invitations  of  philanthropical 
and  other  societies,  and  in  the  discus- 
sion of  political  affairs. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN. 


Abraham  LrN-coLisr  was  born  Feb- 
ruary 12th,  1809,  in  a  district  of  Har- 
din County,  now  included  in  Lraue 
County,  Kentucky.     His  father  and 
grandfather,   sprung  from   a  Quaker 
family  in  Pennsylvania,  were  born  in 
Rockingham  County,  Virginia.  Thence 
the  grandfather,  Abraham  Lincoln,  re- 
moved to  Kentucky,  where,  encounter- 
ing the  fortunes  of  the  first  settlers,  he 
was  slain  by  the  Indians,  about  the 
year  1784.    His  third  and  youngest  son, 
Thomas,  brought  up  to  a  life  of  rude 
country  industry,  in  1806  married  Nancy 
Hanks,  of  Kentucky,  a  native  of  Virgin- 
ia, so  that  the  blood  of  Abraham  Lin- 
coln, is  directly  traceable  to  the  Old  Do- 
minion—the mother  of  Presidents. 

The  parents,  it  is  said,  partly  on 
account  of  slavery,  partly  on  account 
of  the  disputed  Kentucky  land  titles, 
removed  to  a  new  forest  home,  in  what 
is  now  Spencer  County,  Indiana,  when 
their  son  Abraham  was  in  his  eighth 
year.  The  task  before  the  settlers  was 
the  clearing  of  the  farm  in  the  wilder- 
ness; and  in  this  labor  and  its  inci- 
dents of  hunting  and  agricultural  toils 
the  rugged  boy  grew  up  to  manhood, 
receiving  such  elementary  instruction 
as  the  occasional  schoolmasters  of  the 
region  afforded.  Taken  altogether,  it 
wa^  very  little— for  the  time  which  he 


attended  schools  of  any  kind,  was  in 
the  whole  less  than  a  year.    His  know- 
ledge from  books  was  to  be  worked  out 
solely  by  himself;  the  vigorous  life 
around  him  and  rough  experience  were 
to  teach  him  the  rest.    His  first  adven- 
ture in  the  world  was  at  the  age  of 
nineteen,  when  hired  as  an  assistant  to 
a  son  of  the  owner,  the  two,  without 
other  aid,  navigated  a  flat  boat  to  New 
Orleans,  trading  by  the  way — an  ex- 
cursion on  which  more  might  be  learnt 
of  human  nature  than  in  a  year  at  col- 
lege.   At  twenty-one,  he  followed  his 
father,  who  had  now  married  a  second 
time,  to  a  new  settlement  in  Macon 
County,  Illinois,  where  a  log  cabin  was 
built  by  the  family,  and  the  land  fenced 
in  by  rails,  vigorously  and  abundantly 
split  by  the  stalwart  Abraham. 

The  rail-splitter  of  Illinois  was  yet  to 
be  summoned  to  a  fiercer  conflict.  To 
build  a  flat-boat  was  no  great  change 
of  occupation  for  one  so  familiar  with 
the  axe.  lie  was  engaged  in  this  work 
on  the  Sangamon  Eiver,  and  in  taking 
the  craft  afterward  to  New  Orleans, 
serving  on  his  return  as  clerk  in  charge 
of  a  store  and  mill  at  New  Salem,  be- 
longing to  his  employer.  The  breaking 
out  of  the  Black-Hawk  war  in  Illinois, 
in  1832,  gave  -him  new  and  more 
spirited  occupation.    He  joined  a  vo- 

873 


374  ABRAHAM 

lunteer  company,  was  elected  captain, 
served  tlirougli  a  three  months'  cam- 
paign, and  was  in  due  time  rewarded 
by  his  share  of  bounty  lands  in  Iowa. 
A  popular  man  in  his  neighborhood, 
doubtless  from  his  energy,  sagacity, 
humor,  and  innate  benevolence  of  dis- 
position, admirably  qualifying  him  as  a 
representative  of  the  West,  or  of  human 
nature  in  its  better  condition  anywhere, 
he  was,  on  return  from  the  war,  set  up 
as  a  Whig  candidate  for  the  Legisla- 
ture, in  which  he  was  beaten  in  the 
district,  though  his  own  precinct,  demo- 
cratic as  it  too  was,  gave  him  277  out 
of  284  votes.    Unsettled,  and  on  the 
lookout  for  occupation  in  the  world,  he 
now  again  fell  in  charge  of  a  country 
store  at  New  Salem,  over  the  counter 
of  which  he  gained  knowledge  of  men, 
but  little  pecuniary  profit.    The  store, 
in  fact,  was  a  failure,  but  the  man  was 
not.    He  had  doubtless  chopped  logic, 
as  heretofore  timber,  with  his  neigh- 
bors, and  democrats  had  felt  the  edge 
of  his  argument.    Some  confidence  of 
this  nature  led  him  to  think  of  the  law 
as  a  profession.  Working  out  his  prob- 
lem of  self-education,  he  would  borrow 
a  few  books  from  a  lawyer  of  the  vil- 
lage in  the  evening,  read  them  at 
night,  and  return  them  in  the  morning. 
A  turn  at  official   surveying  in  the 
county  meanwhile,  by  its  emoluments, 
assisted  him  to  live.    In  1834,  he  was 
elected,  by  a  large  vote  to  the  Legisla- 
ture, and  again  in  1836,  '38,  and  '40. 
In  1836,  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar, 
and  the  following  year  commenced 
practice  at  Springfield,  with  his  fellow- 
representative  in  the  Legislature,  Major 
John  F.  Stuart.    He  rapidly  acquired 


LINCOLN. 

a  reputation  by  his  success  in  jury 
trials,  in  which  he  cleared  up  difficul- 
ties with  a  sagacious,  ready  humor,  and 
a  large.-  and  growing  stock  of  apposite 
familiar  illustrations.    Politics  and  the 
bar,  as  usual  in  the  West,  in  his  case 
also  went  together;   a  staunch  sujd- 
porter  of  Whig  principles  in  the  midst 
of  the  democracy,  he  canvassed  the 
State  for  Henry  Clay  in  1844,  making 
numerous  speeches  of  signal  ability, 
and  in  1846,  was  elected  to  Congress 
from  the  central  district  of  Illinois. 
During  his  term  he  was  distinguished 
by  his  advocacy  of  free  soil  principles, 
voting  in  favor  of  the  right  of  petition, 
and  steadily  supporting  the  Wilmot 
proviso  prohibiting  slavery  in  the  new 
territories.    Lie  also  proposed  a  plan 
of  compensated  emancipation,  with  the 
consent  of  a  majority  of  the  owners,  for 
the  District  of  Columbia.    A  member 
of  the  Whig  National  Convention  of 
1848,  he  supported  the  nomination  of 
General  Taylor  for  the  Presidency,  in 
an  active  canvass  of  Illinois  and  In- 
diana.   In  1856,  he  was  recommended 
by  the  Illinois  delegation  as  a  candidate 
for  the  Vice  Presidency,  on  the  Repub- 
lican ticket  with  Colonel  Fremont.  In 
1858,  he  was  nominated  as  candidate 
for  United  States  Senator  in  opposition 
to  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  and  "  took  the 
stump"  in  joint  debate  with  that  pow- 
erful  antagonist   of  the  Democratic 
party,  delivering  a  series  of  speeches 
during  the  summer  and  autumn,  in  the 
chief  towns  and  cities  of  the  State.  In 
the  first  of  these  addresses  to  the  Re- 
publican Sfate  Convention  at  Spring- 
field,  June   17th,  he  uttered  a  me- 
morable  declaration  on  the  subject 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN". 


of  slavery,  mucli  quoted  in  the  stirring 
controversies  wliicli  afterward  ensued. 
"  "VVe  are  now,"  said  lie,  "  far  into  the 
fiftli  year  since  a  policy  was  initiated 
with  the  avowed  object,  and  confident 
promise,  of  putting  an  end  to  slavery 
agitations.  Under  the  operation  of  that 
policy,  that  agitation  has  not  only  not 
ceased,  but  has  constantly  augmented. 
In  my  opinion,  it  will  not  cease  until 
a  crisis  shall  have  been  reached  and 
passed.  'A  house  divided  against  itself 
cannot  stand.'  I  believe  this  govern- 
ment cannot  endure  permanently,  half 
slave  and  half  free.  I  do  not  expect  the 
Union  to  be  dissolved — I  do  not  expect 
the  house  to  fall;  but  I  do  expect  it  will 
cease  to  be  divided.  It  will  become  all 
one  thing,  or  all  the  other." 

Other  opinions  expressed  by  him  in 
this  political  campaign,  while  they  ex- 
hibited him  as  no  friend  to  slavery, 
placed  him  on  the  ground  of  a  constitu- 
tional opposition  to  the  institution. 
The  election  ended  in  the  choice  of  a 
Legislature  which  sent  Mr.  Douglas  to 
the  Senate,  though  the  Republican  can- 
didates pledged  to  Mr,  Lincoln  received 
a  laro;er  as-o-reo-ate  vote.  In  the  ensu- 
ing  nomination  in  1860,  for  the  Presi- 
dency, by  the  convention  at  Chicago, 
Mr.  Lincoln,  on  the  third  ballot  was 
prefeiTed  to  Mr.  Seward  by  a  d_ecided 
vote,  and  placed  before  the  country  as 
the  candidate  of  the  Kepublican  free- 
soil  party.  He  had  three  rivals  in  the 
field,  Breckinridge,  representing  the 
old  Southern  pro-slavery  Democratic 
party ;    Douglas,  its  new  "  popular 


375 

sovereignty  "  modification  ;  Bell,  a  res- 
pectable, cautious  conservatism.  In 
the  election,  of  the  entire  popular  vote, 
4,662,170,  Mr.  Lincoln  received  1,857,- 
610;  Mr.  Douglas,  1,365,976;  Mr. 
Biecldnridgo,  817,953;  and  Mr.  Boll, 
590,631.  Every  free  State  except  New 
Jersey,  where  the  vote  was  divided, 
voted  for  Lincoln,  giving  him  seventeen 
out  of  the  thirty-three  States  which 
then  composed  the  Union.  In  nine  of 
the  slave  States,  besides  South  Carolina, 
he  had  no  electoral  ticket.  Alabama, 
Arkansas,  Delaware,  Florida,  Georgia, 
Louisiana,  Maryland,  Mississippi,  North 
and  South  Carolina,  Texas,  cast  their 
votes  for  Breckenridge  and  Lane,  72  ; 
for  Bell  and  Everett,  39 ;  for  Douglas 
and  Johnson,  12. 

In  the  following  February,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln left  his  home  at  Springfield,  by  a 
circuitous  route,  through  the  Northern 
States  for  Washington  ;  when  so  great 
was  the  exasperation  of  the  defeated 
party,  that  threats  having  been  thrown 
out  of  interrupting  his  progress,  it  was 
thought  necessary  to  hasten  his  jour- 
ney to  the  capital  by  night,  to  secure 
his  safety.  It  was  also  expected  that 
some  opposition  would  be  made  to  his 
inauguration,  and  an  unusual  police 
and  military  force  was  in  readiness ;  but 
the  ceremony  passed  o&  quietly,  and 
the  new  President  entered  on  that 
struggle  of  the '  loyal  States  with  the 
great  rebellion,  the  settlement  and  con- 
clusion of  which,  as  we  write,  not  yet 
reached,  is  to  determine  his  place  in 
history. 


W  I  N  F  I E  L 


D  SCOTT. 


"Westfield  Scott  was  born  near  Peters- 
burg, Virginia,  June  13, 1*786,  of  a  family 
originally  derived  from  the  Lowlands 
of  Scotland.  His  grandfather,  involved 
ill  the  disturbances  of  the  times,  be- 
came a  refuo;ee  to  America  after  the 
battle  of  Culloden.  He  settled  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  began  the  practice  of  the 
law.  His  son,  a  farmer,  married  Ann 
Mason,  of  one  of  the  most  respectable 
families  of  ■  the  State.  They  were  the 
parents  of  Winfield  Scott.  The  loss 
of  his  father  when  he  was  but  four 
years  old,  and  of  his  mother  at  seven- 
teen, threw  the  youth  upon  the  world 
to  work  out  his  own  fortunes.  His 
early  education  in  the  high  school  at 
Richmond  introduced  him  to  the  law 
lectures  delivered  at  William  and  Mary 
Colleo;e.  He  had  chosen  for  himself 
the  law  as  a  profession,  and  following 
up  the  study  in  the  office  of  David 
Robertson,  was  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
1806  ;  engaged  in  practice  in  his  native 
county,  and  profited  by  residence  and 
intimacy  with  Mr.  Benjamin  Watkins 
Leigh,  eminent  in  the  councils  of  the 
State.  In  1807  the  young  practitioner 
turned  his  attention  to  South  Carolina, 
with  the  view  of  pursuing  his  profes- 
sion at  Charleston,  but  failing  to  se- 
cure from  the  Legislature  of  that  State, 
the  privilege  of  exemption  from  the 


year's  previous  residence  required  in 
such  cases,  he  abandoned  his  intention. 

There  was  metal  more  attractive  for 
the  young  man  in  the  stirring  notes  of 
war  which  sounded  over  the  country. 
It  was  the  period  of  British  aggression 
upon  the  neutral  rights  of  American 
commerce,  aggravated  by  her  insulting 
claims  of  search,  brought  to  an  open 
act  of  defiance  in  the  attack  upon  the 
Chesapeake,  The  young  blood  of  the 
country  was  stirred  by  the  outrage. 
The  rising  tide  of  indignation  created 
soldiers,  orators,  and  statesmen.  A 
new  race  of  our  public  men  in  the  Sen- 
ate, and  the  field,  and  on  the  ocean, 
date  from  that  era.  It  sent  Clay,  Cal- 
houn, and  others  of  fame  to  Congress, 
and  stirred  the  prompt  indignation  of 
Jackson,  thirsting  for  war,  in  the  west- 
ern wilderness.  Winfield  Scott  was 
peculiarly  its  growth.  He  had  volun- 
teered, before  his  visit  to  Charleston, 
member  of  a  Petersburg  troop  of 
horse,  as  a  guardian  of  the  coast,  in  the 
measures  taken  after  the  Chesapeake 
affair,  and  when  the  patiently  endured 
aggressions  slowly  ripened  into  the 
warlike  proceedings  of  the  following 
year,  1808,  he  received  from  the  go- 
vernment the  appointment  of  Captain 
of  Light  Artillery.  In  this  capacity 
he  was  stationed  the  next  year  under 


I 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


377 


tlie  command  of  General  Wilkinson,  at 
New  Orleans,  of  whom  he  entertained 
a  great  distrust.  On  one  occasion, 
sometime  in  December,  1809,  he  com- 
mitted the  imprudence  of  expressing 
his  opinion  at  a  public  table  in  Wash- 
ington, in  the  territory  of  Mississippi. 
Wilkinson  called  his  subordinate  to 
account  in  a  court  martial,  and  Scott 
was  accordingly  tried  for  the  assertion 
"  that  he  never  saw  but  two  traitors, 
General  Wilkinson  and  Burr,  and  that 
General  Wilkinson  was  a  liar  and  a 
scoundrel."  For  this,  Captain  Scott 
was  sentenced  to  a  year's  suspension 
from  rank,  pay,  and  emoluments. 

This  enforced  leisure  gave  the  young 
captain  the  opportunity  of  perfecting 
himself  in  various   military  studies, 
which  he  seduously  pursued  at  the 
house  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Leigh,  in  Vir- 
gmia.    The  government  was  very  de- 
liberate in  entering  on  the  impending 
war,  so  that  nothing  was  lost  in  the 
way  of  any  important  occupation  in 
the  field.    In  the  spring  of  1812,  we 
find  him  bringing  his  legal  acquisitions 
to  bear  in  the  service  of  his  new  pro- 
fession, as  Judge  Advocate  in  the  trial 
of  Colonel  Gushing,  of  which  he  pub- 
lished a  report.    "His  able  manage- 
ment of  this  interesting  case,  and  his 
eloquent  and  well-argued  replication- to 
the  prisoner's  defence,"  says  a  compe- 
tent authority,  "  afford  honorable  proof 
of  his  legal  acquirements  and  talents."  ^ 
At  length,  in  the  summer  of  1812, 
war  was  actually  declared,  and  Captain 
Scott,  promoted  to  the  rank  of  lieute- 


'  Biographical  Sketch  of  General  Scott,  by  Gulian  C. 
Verplanck,  in  the  Analectic  Magazine  for  December,  1814. 


nant-colonel  in  the  second  regiment  of 
artillery,  was  ordered  to  the  frontier, 
and  took  his  station  at  Black  Rock,  on 
the  Niagara  River,  protecting  the  nav}^- 
yard  at  that  spot.  He  had  not  been 
long  at  this  post  when  he  was  called 
upon  to  render  assistance  to  Captain 
Elliott,  afterward  the  commodore,  in 
the  affair  of  cutting  out  the  Detroit 
and  Caledonia  from  beneath  the  guns 
of  Fort  Erie.  Scott's  aid  was  given 
with  spirit  in  saving  the  larger  of  the 
vessels  from  recapture.  He  had  pre- 
sently an  opportunity  of  taking  the 
command  in  a  more  ai^propriate  mili- 
tary engagement  on  land.  The  service 
was  one  of  equal,  if  not  greater  cour- 
age and  resolution,  and  thoup-h  the 
issue  was  unsuccessful,  his  gallantry 
and  resources  in  the  field  were  not  the 
less  demonstrated,  and  he  had  the  rare 
felicity  of  being  honored  in  defeat. 

The  battle  of  Queenstown,  on  the  Ni- 
agara River,  has  been  happily  character- 
ized by  the  latest  historian  of  these 
events,  as  "  a  series  of  engagements  in 
which  were  blended  the  most  perfect 
plans  of  operations  and  the  most  incom- 
plete arrangements  for  their  execution, 
the  most  undaunted  courage  and  the 
most  flagrant  cowardice,  the  most  trium- 
phant success  and  the  most  disastrous 
defeat."  ^    The  most  important  position 
on  the  British  frontier  of  Niagara  Ri- 
v.er,  below  the  Falls,  was  Queenstown. 
It  was   defended   by  a  fort  on  the 
heights,  and  was  in  ready  communica- 
tion with  the  adjacent  post  of  Fort 
George,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river. 
Opposite  these  positions  respectively 


"  Dawson's  Battles  of  the  United  States,  II.,  160 


378 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


on  the  American  side  were  Lewistown 
and  Fort  ISiagara,    At  tlie  former,  a 
considerable  body  of  militia,  over  two 
thousand,  were  assembled ;  while,  at 
Black  Eock  and  Niagara  a  still  larger 
number  of  i-ec-ulars  were  stationed. 
The  force  was  sufficient,  if  fairly  got 
into  the  field,  to  meet  the  smaller  num- 
ber of  the  enemy,  which  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  position  on  the  opposite 
shore.    The  attempt,  however,  to  con- 
quer their  works  required  the  most 
skillful   dispositions  and  unflinching 
courage  on  the  part  of  the  assailants. 
The  arrangements  for  the  attack,  and 
the  direction  of  the  entire  Amei-ican 
force  on  the  occasion  were  entrusted  to 
Major-General   Stephen  Van  Rensse- 
laer, of 'the  New  York  State  Militia. 
Opposed  to  him  on  the  British  side 
was  the  vigilant  and  estimable  Gene- 
ral Sir  Isaac  Brock,  a  leader  of  dis- 
tinguished ability.     Means  of  trans- 
port were   provided,  and  an  attack 
planned  for  the  night  of  the  11th  of 
October,  1812,  but  owing  to  an  unpar- 
donable mismanagement  of  the  boats, 
it  was  postponed,  to  be  resumed,  with 
better  precautions,  in  the  darkness  of 
the  following  morning.  Detachments 
of  regulars  had  been  summoned  from 
Fort  Niagara  and  Black  Rock,  and  a 
newly  enlisted  force  of  three  hundred 
and  fifty  regulars,  commanded  by  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Chrystie,  arrived,  anxi- 
ous to  take  part  in  the  action.    It  was 
arranged  that  two  parties,  of  three 
hundred  men  each,  severally  of  regu- 
lars and  militia,  should  first  cross  before 
daylight,  and  take  possession  of  the 
fort  at  Queenstown,  and  be  followed 
by  others  of  the  command  on  the  re- 


turn of  the  boats.    One  of  these  par- 
ties was  to  be  led  by  Lieutenant-Colo- 
nel Chrystie,  the  other  by  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Solomon  Van  Rensselaer,  the 
cousin  and  aid  of  the  New  York  major- 
general.    The  latter  was  to  conduct 
the  movement  on  the  British  side.  It 
was  intended  that  an  equal  number  of 
both  divisions  should  join  in  the  first 
passage  of  the  river,  but  ther,e  was 
some  confusion   in  the  embarcation, 
which  "consisted  almost  entirely  of  re- 
gulars.    Lieutenant-Colonel  Chrystie 
did  not  succeed  in  crossing,  but  his 
command  was   gallantly  led  by  his 
senior  captain,  John  E.  "Wool,  Avho 
succeeded,  spite  of  serious  wounds,  in 
leading  his  men  to  the  capture  of  the 
fort.    Lieutenant-Colonel  Van  Rensse- 
laer was  wounded  in  several  places 
shortly  after  landing,  and  was  conse- 
Ciuently  unable   to   keep    the  "field. 
During  this  early  part  of  the  engage- 
ment. Colonel  Scott,  who  had  arrived 
in  the  night  from  Niagara  Falls,  was 
posted  with  his  artillery  on  the  heights 
of  Lewiston,  protecting  the  landing  and 
assailing  the  enemy's  works  with  his 
fire.    General  Brock,  meanwhile,  was 
hastening,  on  the  first  summons  of  the 
combat,  from   his   quarters   at  Fort 
George.    He  came  up  in  time  to  wit- 
ness the  Americans  in  possession  of  the 
fort,  and  after  an  imsuccessful  attempt 
to  drive  them  from  their  position,  was 
rallying  on  a  fresh  body  of  his  forces 
to  the  encounter  when  he  fell,  mortally 
wounded,  at  their  head.    Thus  closed 
the  great  first  act  of  the  day  at  about 
eight  o'clock  in  the  forenoon. 

The  arrival  at  this  moment  of  Colo- 
nel Scott  marks  the  second  act  of  the 


WTNFTELD  SCOTT. 


379 


enirao'emeiit.  lie  was  ordered  across 
tlie  ri  vev  to  assume  tlie  entire  command, 
wliicli  now  consisted  of  some  tliree  hun- 
dred and  fifty  regulars  and  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  militia.  He  had  hardly, 
assisted  by  the  skill  of  Captain  Totten, 
arranged  these  in  a  defensive  position, 
when  he  was  attacked  by  a  body  of 
]\IohaAvk  warriors  enlisted  in  the  en- 
emy's service.  This  was  repulsed,  as 
was  also  another  attack  of  the  British 
troops,  when  their  main  body,  eight 
hundred  and  fifty  in  number,  came  up 
from  Fort  George,  under  command  of 
General  Sheaffe.  It  was  an  anxious 
moment  for  the  young  American  officer, 
vainly  expecting  reinforcements  from 
his  countrymen  on  the  other  side.  He 
resolved  to  face  the  enemy  while  re- 
sistance was  possible.  Addressing  his 
men,  he  reminded  them  that  they  were 
in  a  position  at  the  beginning  of  a  na- 
tional war,  where  their  country  de- 
manded a  sacrifice,  to  redeem  the  igno- 
minious surrender  of  Hull.  "  Let  us 
die,"  he  said,  "  arms  in  hand ;"  and  all 
responded  to  the  appeal.  The  British, 
thinking  this  small  force  but  an  out- 
post, apj)roached  cautiously,  and  as 
they  closed  in,  the  Americans  for  a 
time  withstood  their  superior  attack. 
It  could  not  be  long  resisted.  Their 
ranks  were  broken,  and  the  gallant 
band  escaped  for  the  moment  by  the 
precipice  to  the  banks  of  the  river, 
where  boats  should  have  been  pro- 
vided for  their  rescue.  There  were 
none,  and  nothing  was  left  but  capitu- 
lation. But  even  this  last  resource  was 
environed  with  difficulties.  Several 
messengers  bearing  the  appropriate  sig- 
nal, were  lost  in  the  hostile  bands  of 


Indians  who  beset  their  path.  "At 
length,  Scott  determined  that  he  him- 
self would  make  another  attem})t.  He 
prepared  a  flag  of  truce — a  white  hand- 
kerchief fastened  upon  his  sword — and 
accompanied  by  Captains  Totten  and 
Gibson,  went  forth  on  a  forlorn  hope 
to  seek  a  parley.  Keeping  close  to  the 
water's  edsfe,  and  under  cover  of  the 
precipice  as  much  as  possible,  they  de- 
scended along  the  river.  They  were 
exposed  to  a  continual  random  fire 
from  the  Indians,  until  they  turned  up 
an  easy  slope  to  gain  the  road  from  the 
village  to  the  heights.  They  had  just 
attained  this  road,  when  they  were  met 
by  two  Indians,  who  sprang  upon  them. 
It  was  in  vain  that  Scott  declared  his 
purpose,  and  claimed  the  protection  of 
his  flag.  They  attempted  to  wrench  it 
from  his  hands,  and  at  the  same  instant 
Totten  and  Gibson  drew  their  swords. 
The  Indians  had  just  discharged  theii 
rifles  at  the  American  officers,  and  were 
on  the  point  of  using  their  knives  and 
hatchets,  when  a  British  officer,  accom- 
panied by  some  men,  rushed  forward 
and  prevented  a  further  combat."  '  The 
American  officers  surrendered  to  Gene- 
.ral  Sheaffe;  terms  of  capitulation  were 
entered  upon,  and  Scott  surrendered 
his  force  of  two  hundred  and  ninety- 
three  men,  with  all  the  honors  of  war. 
If  aught  could  redeem  the  disgraceful 
absence  of  the  militia  on  that  day,  it 
was  the  gallantry  of  Colonel  Scott  and 
his  brother  officers  and  their  little 
band  of  patriots. 

From  Niagara  Colonel  Scott  was 
taken  a  prisoner  to  Quebec,  whence  he 


'  Mansfield's  Scott,  p.  44. 


380 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


was  presently"  sent  in  a  cartel  to  Boston, 
wliere  liis  exchange  was  effected  in 
January,  1813.  His  release  brought 
him  ao-ain  to  the  scene  of  his  former 
exertions  on  the  Niagara  frontier.  He 
joined  the  army  of  General  Dearborn, 
shortly  after  the  brilliant  affair  at 
York,  memorable  as  well  for  the  fall 
of  General  Pike,  as  for  the  victory 
achieved,  with  the  rank  of  Adjutant- 
General,  reserving,  at  the  same  time  his 
right  to  command  his  regiment  when 
the  opportunity  should  arise  for  ser- 
vice. The  occasion  soon  presented 
itself  in  the  attack  upon  Fort  George, 
on  the  morning  of  the  2'7th  May. 
In  this  affair  Colonel  Scott  had  the 
post  of  honor,  leading  the  advanced 
guard,  or  first  division  of  boats 
M^hich  effected  a  landing.  He  was 
seconded  in  this  movement  by  his 
friend  Captain  Perry,  attached  to  Com- 
modore jChauncey's  marine  command. 
The  landing  was  accomplished  under 
fire  of  the  enemy — a  service  sufficient 
to  test  the  courage  and  resources  of  the 
future  hero  of  Lake  Erie.  Scott  formed 
his  line  on  the  beach,  with  the  enemy 
above  him  on  the  bank,  fifteen  hundred 
strong.  Immediately  ascending,  his 
men  thrust  aside  the  bayonets  of  the 
foe,  and  followed  up  their  first  onset  so 
spiritedly  that,  after  an  action  of  some 
twenty  minutes,  the  enemy  were  flpng 
before  them.  The  fort,  no  longer 
tenable,  was  abandoned,  and  one  of  its 
magazines  fired.  Scott  was  struck  by 
a  piece  of  timber  from  the  explosion, 
but,  eager  to  preserve  the  work,  dashed 
on  and  was  the  first  to  enter  the  en- 
closure, capturing  with  his  own  hands 
the  enemy's  flag  which  had  been  left 


flying.  He  then  pushed  on  the  pur- 
suit till  he  was  recalled.  Tliere  was 
some  satisfaction  in  being  victorious  on 
the  scene  where  he  had  recently  sur- 
rendered himself  a  prisoner. 

Colonel  Scott  remained  with  the 
army  at  Fort  George,  engaged  in  va- 
rious minor  military  duties  till  the  ex- 
pedition of  General  Wilkinson,  medi- 
tating the  capture  of  Montreal,  was  set 
on  foot  in  the  autumn,  when,  leaving 
the  command  of  the  fort,  he  joined  that 
officer  on  the  St.  Lawrence.  His  duties 
led  him  into  positions  of  danger  and 
responsibility  on  the  river,  but  the  ex- 
traordinary management  of  the  cam- 
paign by  his  superiors  allowed  him  no 
opportunity  of  great  distinction.  The 
public  was  again  to  be  disappointed 
with  the  conduct  of  affairs  on.  the  fron- 
tier. Scott,  patiently  biding  hi^  time, 
made  pi'eparation  during  the  winter 
at  Albany,  for  the  work  of  the  follow- 
ing year.  In  March,  1814,  he  was  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  Brigadier-General, 
and  joined  Major  Brown  on  his  route 
to  the  scene  of  former  glories  oh  the 
Niagara  River.  Scott  was  left  at  Buf- 
falo  to  form  his  men,  by  a  rigid  system 
of  discipline,  to  meet  the  trained  British 
soldiers  in  the  field.  His  exertions 
were  not  intermitted  till  his  force  of 
officers  and  men  were  thoroughly  ac- 
complished in  every  important  field- 
movement.  Early  in  July,  his  com- 
mand was  fully  prepared  for  action. 
The  British  under  General  Eiall  were 
in  force  at  Chippewa,  on  the  bank  of 
the  river,  above  the  Falls.  On  the 
3d  of  July,  General  Brown  captured 
Fort  Erie,  and  pushed  Scott  ahead 
toward   the  enemy.     The  next  day 


WINPIELD  SCOTT. 


381 


botli  officers,  Britisli  and  American, 
had  tlieir  stations  beliind  two  small 
streams  on  the  edge  of  a  level  plain,  a 
mile  and  a  half  in  length  and  a  mile  in 
width,  from  the  Niagara  Eiver  to  a 
wood.    This  was  the  battle-o-roiind  of 
Chipi^ewa,  a  splendid  field  for  the  dis- 
play of  General  Scott's  newly-taught 
tactics  against  the  practised  veterans 
of  the  enemy.    The  engagement  was 
fought  on  the  fifth.    At  the  moment 
of  the  British  advance,  Scott  was  about 
to  manoeuvre  his  men  in  one  of  his  drill 
parades  on  the  plain.    "  You  will  have 
a  fight,"  said  General  Brown,  coming 
up ;  "  the  enemy  is  advancing,"  and  he 
passed  on  to  the  reserve,  leavino-  Scott 
to  conduct  the  operations  of  the  day. 
The  British  battalions  were  drawn  up 
in  line  across  the  field,  extending  into 
the  wood,  and  were  well  supported  by 
ai-tillery.    They  included  in  their  ranks 
some  of  the  choicest  troops  of  the 
army.     As   their    whole    force  was 
greatly  superior  to  the  American,  be- 
ing, all  told,  a  thousand  more,  it  re- 
quired consummate  generalship  on  the 
part  of  Scott   to   overcome   the  de- 
ficiency.    This  was  accomplished  by 
him  by  a  masterly  system  of  evolutions 
on  the  field,  outflanking  the  enemy  to 
some  extent,  by  an  oblique  movement, 
enabling  him  to  give  effect  to  a  bayonet 
charge,  which  proved  decisive.  This 
was  carried  out  by  the  different  batta- 
lions, suj^ported  by  the  artillery  ad- 
vantageously placed  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  and  the  result  was  one  of  the 
neatest  operations  of  the  whole  war. 
The  battle  commenced  at  four  in  the 
afternoon  and  continued  till  evening. 
The  American  loss  was  forty-eight  men 
II.— 48 


killed,   two   hundred    and  thirty-six 

wounded,  and  but  two  missing;  that 
of  the  British  was  two  hundred  and 
thirty-six  killed,  officers  and  men,  three 
hundred  and  twenty-one  wounded,  and 
one  officer,  thirty  regulars  and  fifteen 
militia  missing.  The  moral  effect  of  this 
action  was  greater  than  its  physical 
success.  It  demonstrated  that  Ameri- 
can troops  could  be  safely  brought  face 
to  face  with  experienced  British  vete- 
rans, and  that  we  had  at  least,  one  ge- 
neral who,  with  ability  to  train  and 
lead  them,  was  quite  willing  to  show 
himself  where  honor  was  to  be  won. 

Twenty  days  later,  in  the  same  month 
of  July,  was  fought  the  battle  of  Lun- 
dy's  Lane,  a  sequel  to  the  engagement  of 
Chippewa.  The  British,  after  their  late 
defeat,  had  retreated  to  their  defences 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  on  Lake  On- 
tario, to  which  General  Brown  directed 
his  attention  with  the  design  of  expel- 
ling them  from  the  region.    He  was 
anxious  to  draw  on  a  conflict,  and  was 
manoeuvering  for  the  purpose,  when  in- 
"telligence  was  received  at  the  camp  at 
Chippewa,  on  the  twenty-fifth,  that  the 
enemy  had  crossed  the  river  at  Queens- 
town,  with  the  probable  intention  of 
capturing  the  supplies  on  the  American 
side.    The  rumor  was  soon  proved  to 
be  false ;  but  its  immediate  result  was 
a  movement  against  the  works  at  Ni- 
agara, where   the   enemy  would  be 
weakened  by  the  force  sent  across  the 
river.     General  Scott's  command,  con- 
sisting in  all  of  thirteen  hundred  men, 
was  instantly  sent  along  the  road  from 
Chippewa  to  accomplish  this  diversion. 
It  appears  not  a  little  singular  that  on 
so  limited  and  well-defined  a  frontier 


m 


3S2 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


as  tliat  of  tlie  Niagara  Elver,  manned 
by  several  posts,  there  should  be  such 
uncertain  intelligence  of  the  enemy's 
condition  and  movements.     Not  only 
had  the  enemy  not  crossed  as  was  sup- 
posed, but  important  reinforcements, 
brought  by  Lieutenant-General  Drum- 
mond  from  the  posts  on  Lake  Ontario, 
had  been  received  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  of  which  the  American  com- 
mander knew  nothing.  In  fact.  General 
Riall  was  on  his  march  leading  the  ad- 
vance of  this  new  army  against  the 
American  force,  when  Scott,  late  in  the 
afternoon,  expecting  only  to  encounter, 
on  his  own  terms,  a  portion  of  the  force 
he  had  already  beaten,  was  suddenly 
confronted  on  his  road  by  an  imposing 
array  of  the  enemy  in  greatly  superior 
numbers.    They  were  drawn  up  on  a 
ridge  on  the  side  of  Lundy's  Lane,  a 
road  at  a  right-angle  to  the  river,  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  cataract,  op- 
posite the  lower  end  of  the  American 
Fall.    It  was  hazardous  to  advance  in 
the  face  of  this  line ;  it  was  at  least  in 
convenient  to  retreat.    Scott,  always 
ready  to  decide  an  issue  of  this  kind  in 
favor  of  the  courageous  course,  resolved 
upon   the   attack.     Time   might  be 
gained  till  the  reinforcements  which  he 
sent  for  should  arrive.    In  this  respect, 
however,  the  enemy  had  again  the  ad- 
vantage, for  their  reserve,  already  in 
motion,  was   close  at  hand  in  their 
rear.    They  had  already  some  eighteen 
hundred  men  in  line ;  the  entire  com- 
mand with  which  Scott  approached 
was  thirteen  hundred.    Here  again  the 
excellent  strategy  of  the  latter  proved 
of  avail.    Discovering  that  the  British 
line  began  from  the  road  along  the 


Niagara,  leaving  a  space  between  it 
and  the  river,  he  planted  a  part  of  his 
force  in  that  quarter  to  turn  the  en- 
emy's left.    On  the  other  hand,  he  was 
outflanked  by  the  British  right  wing. 
An  attempt  on  their  part  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  this,  led  to  some  serious 
fighting  in  that  direction  in  the  re- 
pulse.   Meanwhile,  Major  Jessup,  on 
the  American  right,  had  turned  the 
enemy  and   captured  Major-General 
Eiall,  the   commander  at  Chippewa. 
The  advantage  at  both  ends  of  the  line 
was  thus  with  the  Americans.    In  the 
centre  the  enemy  stood  firm,  supported 
by  their  battery  and  their  advantageous 
position.    They  had  the  benefit,  also, 
of  constant  reinforcements.    This  was 
the  state  of  affairs  at  nine  o'clock,  when 
General  Brown  arrived  on  the  field 
with  his  reserve.    Disengaging  Scott's 
brigade,  who,  for  an  hour  and  a  half 
had  borne  the  brunt  of  this  contest,  he 
interposed  fresh  troops  and  ordered  the 
capture  of  the  enemy's  battery.  The 
charge  was  made  and  was  successful. 
The  guns  were  taken  and  the  height 
carried.  Fresh  attacks  were  then  made 
by  the  foe  to  regain  their  position. 
These  again  brought  Scott  into  action. 
He  was  already  wounded  in  the  side, 
but  he  fought  on,  gallantly  charging 
the  enemy  as  they  advanced,  till  he  was 
prostrated  near  the  close  of  the  engage- 
ment, at  halfpast  ten,  by  a  musket 
ball  in  his  right  shoulder.    Two  horses 
were  killed  under  him.    The  loss  in 
his  brigade  was  six  officers  and  one 
hundred  and  two  men  killed,  thirty 
officers  and  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
six  men  wounded  and  missing.    In  the 
whole  engagement,  the  American  loss, 


f 

) 


WINPIELD  SCOTT. 


3S3 


out  of  an  aggregate  of  twenty-six  hun- 
dred in  the  battle,  was  one  hundred 
and  seventy-one  killed,  five  huudi^ed 
and   seventy-one   wounded,  and  one 
hundred  and  ten  missing;  while  that 
of  the  British,  out  of  an  aggregate  of 
not  less  than  four  thousand  five  hun- 
dred, was  eighty-four  killed,  five  hun- 
dred  and  fifty-seven   wounded,  one 
hundred  and  eighty-seven  missing,  and 
forty-two  prisoners.^    Both  the  leading 
generals  on  either  side  were  wounded, 
Gene]-al  Brown  on  the  American,  Ge- 
neral Drummond  on  the  British.  The 
battle,  in  fact,  was  a  most  bloody  one. 
Mr.  Yerplanck,  in  the  narrative  which 
we  have  already  cited,  writing  shortly 
after  its  occurrence,  pronounces  it  "  in 
proportion  to  the  numbers  engaged, 
the  most  sanguinary,  and  decidedly  the 
any  action  which  ever 
took  place  on  our  American  continent." 
It  was  remarkable,  not  only  for  the 
number  of  men  who  fell  and  were 
wounded  on  both  sides,  but  for  the 
fearless,  repeated  crossings  of  the  bayo- 
net— ^the  severest  test  of  a  veteran  sol- 
dier's resolution.    The  place  no  less 
than  the  time  distinguished  this  en- 
gagement.   It  was  fought  in  the  dark- 
ness, lit  up  only  by  its  own  deadly 
fires,  its  smoke  mingling  with  the  spray 
of  the  cataract,  the  sound  of  its  mus- 
ketry and  artillery  blended  with  the 
ceaseless  roar  of  the  mighty  Niagara, 

It  has  been  noticed  that  this  victory 
was  anticipated  by  Brigadier- General 
Scott's  preferment,  the  very  day  of  the 
action,  to  a  Major-Generalship  by  bre- 
vet.   If  the  voice  of  a  grateful  country 

■  Dawson's  Battles  of  the  United  States,  II.,  362. 


could  lighten  the  Severe  wounds  of  a 
soldier,  Scott  had  this  alleviation  of  his 
severe  sufferings,  in  the  painful  months 
of  recovery.  During  the  brief  remainder 
of  the  war.  General  Scott  had  his  head- 
quarters at  Washington  and  Baltimore, 
in  command  of  the  tenth  military  dis-- 
trict,  planning  northern  campaigns, 
which  happily  were  not  required  to  be 
executed. 

On  the  conclusion  of  peace  he  stood 
so  high  in  the  estimation  of  the  Gov- 
ernment, that  he  was  offered  the  post 
of  Secretary  of     ar,  w^hich  he  modestly 
declined  on  the  score  of  youth.  He 
assisted  in  the  reduction  of  the  army ; 
but,  feeling  that  he  was  yet  a  learner 
in  his  favorite  science,  accepted  a  voy- 
age to  Europe,  partly  of  a  diplomatic 
character  and  partly  for  the  object  of 
professional  study.    He  was  assisted  in 
the  latter  by  some  valuable  introduc- 
tions from  the  patriot  Kosciusko.  There 
was  an  excellent  opportunity  at  Paris 
and  elsewhere,  of  learning  the  move- 
ments of  armies  from  generals  who  had 
served  in  the  great  European  wars  just 
closed  at  Waterloo.  Scott  availed  him- 
self of  every  advantage,  and  returned 
by  wa,y  of  England  to  the  United 
States,  in  1816.    The  following  year  he 
was   married   to   Miss   Maria  Mayo, 
daughter  of  John  Mayo,  of  Richmond, 
Virginia. 

On  his  return  he  was  assigned  tc  the 
command  of  the  seaboard,  with  his 
head-quarters  in  the  city  of  JSTew  York. 
To  the  ordinary  duties  of  the  rank  and 
station  in  time  of  peace  in  which  he  was 
sedulously  employed,  he  added,  in  1821, 
the  publication  of  a  system  of  "  General 
Regulations  for  the  Aimy,  or  Military 


381 


WmriELD  SCOTT 


Institutes,"  embracing  the  results  of  his 
studies  and  experience  in  tlie  practice 
of  war.  He  afterwards  presided  over 
a  board  of  officers  called  to  prescribe  a 
■uniform  system  of  organization  and 
tactics  for  the  different  departments  of 
the  militia;  and  in  1835,  at  the  call  of 
Congress,  published  a  new  and  im- 
proved edition  of  the  "  Infantry  Tactics," 
Besides  this  purely  professional  labor, 
he  advocated,  in  an  eloquent  essay  of 
considerable  length,  in  1821,  a  "  Scheme 
for  restricting  the  use  of  Ardent  Spirits 
in  the  United  States,"  his  efforts  being 
directed,  not  to  total  abstinence,  but 
to  the  limitation  of  the  obvious  evils 
of  intemperance.  In  1829,  he  again 
visited  Europe,  making  the  tour  of 
France,  Belgium,  and  Germany. 

The  only  opportunities  for  military 
service  in  the  United  States  between 
the  second  war  with  England  and  the 
conflict  with  Mexico,  were  in  the  occa- 
sional interruptions  of  friendly  rela- 
tions with  the  Indian  tribes  on  the 
frontier,  and  the  later  more  continuous 
struggle  with  that  domestic  enemy  in 
Florida.  Of  the  former  of  these  the  war 
with  Black  Hawk  was  the  most  for- 
midable. This  insurrection  came  to  a 
crisis  in  the  summer  of  1832,  when  it  as- 
sumed the  most  threatening  proportions. 
The  border  of  the  Upper  Mississippi  in 
Illinois,  adjacent  to  Rock  River,  was 
the  main  region  of  the  conflict.  Gene- 
ral Scott  was  ordered  with  a  consider- 
able force  to  cooperate  with  General 
Atkinson,  who  was  already  in  the 
field.  This  journey  was  a  memorable 
one,  not  for  its  achievements  at  the 
close,  for  the  savages  were  conquered 
before  he  arrived  on  the  ground,  but 


for  the  greater  than  warlike  difficulties, 
the  more  than  military  heroism,  which 
attended  its  progress.     The  year  in 
which  these  events  occurred  will  be 
remembered  as  the  fatal  period  of  the 
first  introduction  of  Asiatic  Cholera 
to  our  shores ;  and  it  was  in  the  first 
months  of  that  terrible  scourge,  aggra- 
vated by  a  still  more  fearful  panic,  that 
General  Scott  embarked  in  July,  at 
Buffalo,  conducting  a  force  of  nearly  a 
thousand  men,  in  four  steamboats  by 
the  route  of  the  Lakes,  to  the  theatre 
of  the  war  in  Illinois.    The  dreaded 
pestilence  broke  out  in  the  boats  on  the 
Lake.    Scott  reached  Chicago  to  wit- 
ness the  reduction  of  his  force  to  less 
than  one  half  of  the  number  with  which 
he  had  set  out.  ■  It  is  needless  to  dwell 
on  the  sickening  detail  of  suffering  and 
death.    It  is  enough  for  us  here  to  re- 
cord the  soldier's  duty  and  humane 
kindness,  in  prompt  obedience  to  which 
the  Commander-in-chief,   himself  the 
while  suffering  the  preliminary  symp- 
toms of  the  disease,  gave  his  personal 
attentions  to  the  stricken  and  dying. 
He  might  have  rested  contented  with 
the  best   general   disposition   of  his 
troops,  and  left  the  rest  to  his  medical 
officers.    "But  such,"  says  an  officer 
of  the  army,  an  eye-witness  of  his  con- 
duct in  these   scenes,^  "was  not  his 
course.     He  thought  he   had  other 
duties  to  perform,  that  his  personal 
safety  must  be  disregarded  to  visit  the 
sick,  to  cheer  the  well,  to  encourage  the 
attendants,  to  set  an  example  to  all,  and 
to  prevent  a  panic — in  a  word,  to  save 
the  lives  of  others  at  the  risk  of  his 


'  Mansfield's  Scott,  p.  211. 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


385 


own."  The  simple  statement  of  the 
fact  needs  no  rhetorical  comment.  It 
speaks  for  itself,  and  cheerful  is  it,  even 
in  the  midst  of  such  disaster,  to  note 
the  humanity  of  the  true  soldier.  He 
is,  indeed,  pledged  by  the  honorable 
vows  of  his  profession,  to  meet  death 
in  the  field,  but  it  is  a  neAV  test  of  eu- 
dui'ance  to  encounter  the  malignity  of 
a  fearful  pestilence  in  the  hospital. 
Let  the  case  be  reversed.  How  many 
medical  men  would  leave  their  stations 
to  lead  a  forlorn  hope  in  a  siege  ?  It 
is  the  novel,  unaccustomed  enemy  that 
tries  the  coura<2"e. 

To  these  disheartening  scenes  of  war 
and  pestilence  succeeded  the  pleasing 
duties  of  peace  negotiations  with  the 
rebel  Indians.  Scott  was  associated  with 
Governor  Reynolds,  of  Illinois,  in  the 
interviews  with  the  tribes,  and  had  the 
chief  conduct  of  the  conferences.  He 
managed  these  with  such  courtesy  and 
address,  that  two  important  treaties 
were  concluded ;  one  with  the  Sacs  and 
Foxes,  the  other  with  the  Winnebasfoes, 
ceding  to  the  United  States,  and  thus 
to  the  civilization  of  the  world,  im- 
mense territories  in  Iowa  and  Wiscon- 
sin. 

Such  w^as  the  employment  of  General 
Scott  in  the  autumn  of  1832.  It  was 
to  be  immediately  succeeded,  on  his  re- 
turn to  Washington,  by  a  mission  of  a 
delicate  nature,  in  furtherance  of  the 
policy  of  the  administration  in  regard 
to  the  nullification  contest  of  South 
Carolina,  which  was  now  approaching 
a  crisis.  The  State,  by  the  action  of  its 
Legislature,  had  resolved  to  set  at  de- 
fiance the  authority  of  the  General 
Government  in  the  obvious  exercise  of 


its  powers,  in  the  collection  of  the 
revenues,  a  resolution  which  President 
Jackson  had  met  by  a  full  declaration 
of  the  constitutional  principles  at  stake, 
and  of  his  purpose  to  maintain  them,  in 
his  celebrated  Pi'oclamation.  He  was 
not  a  man  to  whom  a  state  paper,  or 
manifesto  of  any  kind,  to  which  he  had 
once  set  his  hand,  was  an  empty  threat. 
He  accordingly  took  measures  to  en- 
force, if  necessary,  by  the  full  strength 
of  the  Government,  its  violated  au- 
thority. On  the  eighteenth  of  Novem- 
ber, three  weeks  before  the  Proclama- 
tion was  issued.  General  Scott  was 
privately  directed  to  repair  to  South 
Carolina  and  take  such  precautions  as 
might  be  necessary  to  place  the  United 
States'  defences  in  that  region  in  a 
ready  condition  for  action.  The  Gov- 
ernment was  not  to  be  caught  by  sur- 
prise should  the  time  come.  The  mis- 
sion was  executed  by  Scott  in  its  full 
spirit.  He  bore  himself  so  discreetly 
that  he  made  every  necessary  arrange- 
ment, personally  with  the  United  States 
ofiicers,  and  in  the  strengthening  of  the 
forts,  and  collection  of  troops  and  sup- 
plies, that  all  was  accomplished  in  the 
midst  of  a  highly  excited  people,  without 
interruption.  He  left  Charleston,  even, 
says  his  biographer,  Mansfield,  "  without 
having  awakened  a  suspicion  of  his  be- 
ing connected  with  impending  events." 
In  January  he  was  again  landed  at  his 
post  arPort  Moultrie,  prepared  to  pro- 
tect by  its  guns  the  collection  of  the 
revenues  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor. 
His  purpose  could  liow  no  longer  ad- 
mit of  doubt,  but  he  bore  himself  with 
equal  prudence  and  courtesy,  till  the 
occasion  of  his  mission  had  passed  by, 


3S0 


after  the  passage  of  tlie  compromise 
acts,  and  tlie  rescinding  by  tlie  State  of 
its  obnoxious  resolutions. 

Tlie  next  important  employment  of 
General  Scott  was  in  his  command,  at 
an  early  period  of  the  Seminole  War  in 
Florida.  He  took  the  field  in  the 
month  of  February,  1836,  advancing 
his  troops,  consisting  of  a  body  of 
twelve  hundred  regulars,  largely  rein- 
forced by  volunteers  from  the  Southern 
States,  in  three  divisions,  from  the 
north  into  the  heart  of  the  country,  to 
Tampa  Bay.  The  Indians,  however, 
were  a  politic  foe,  and,  retreating 
to  their  inaccessible  hummocks  and 
swamps,  kept  out  of  the  way  of  this 
formidable  demonstration ;  nor  was  a 
subsequent  movement,  in  smaller  par- 
ties, more  successful  in  beating  up  their 
quarters.  The  season  was  advancing 
towards  summer,  the  health  of  the 
troops  suffered,  and  the  short  campaign, 
unfruitful  in  results,  v/as  pronounced  a 
failure.  There  was  some  disappoint- 
ment ;  but  the  public  learnt  better,  by 
the  difficulties  encountered  by  the  brave 
officers  in  the  slow  progress  of  this  war, 
to  estimate  the  real  position  of  Gene- 
ral Scott.  He  was,  shortly  after,  in 
the  month  of  May,  in  Georgia,  conduct- 
ing the  operations  against  the  Creeks, 
when  he  was  recalled  to  Washington,  to 
meet  an  inquiry  into  his  management  of 
these  Southern  campaigns.  A  court  was 
summoned,  composed  of  Major-Gen- 
eral  Macomb,  foremost  in  rank  in  the 
service,  and  Brigadier-Generals  Atkin- 
son and  Brady.  Appearing  before  this 
tribunal,  the  verdict  of  which  fully 
justified  his  course.  General  Scott 
opened  his  defence  in  the  following 


characteristic  manner:  "When  a  Doge 
of  Genoa,  for  soni,e  imaginary  offence 
imputed  by  Louis  XIV.,  was  torn  from 
his  government  and  compelled  to  visit 
France,  in  order  to  debase  himself  be- 
fore that  inflated  monarch,  he  was 
asked,  in  the  palace,  what  struck  him 
with  the  greatest  wonder  amid  the 
blaze  of  magnificence  in  his  view.  'To 
find  myself  here !'  was  the  reply  of  the 
indignant  Lescaro.  And  so,  Mr.  Presi- 
dent, unable  as  I  am,  to  remember  one 
blunder  in  my  recent  operations,  or  a 
single  duty  neglected,  I  may  say,  that 
to  find  myself  in  the  presence  of  this 
honorable  court,  while  the  army  I  but 
recently  commanded  is  still  in  pursuit 
of  the  enemy,  fills  me  with  equal  grief 
and  astonishment."  The  reference  to 
the  President,  the  omnipotent  Jackson, 
who  was  then  in  the  chair,  could  hardly 
be  mistaken.  The  relations  between 
the  two  victors  of  the  war  of  1812  had 
not  always  been  of  the  most  friendly 
character.  Jackson,  who,  at  times,  suf- 
fered no  regard  for  self  respect  to  stand 
in  the  w&j  of  his  imperious  will,  had 
in  181Y  addressed  a  very  discreditable 
letter  to  General  Scott,  calling  him  to 
account  for  a  legitimate  expression  of 
opinion  on  what  was  admitted  to  be  an 
illogical  assumption  of  authority,  to 
which  Scott  had  answered  with  firm- 
ness and  dignity.  Some  years  after,  a 
manly  overture  was  made  by  Scott  in 
Washinsrton,  and  a  reconciliation  en- 
sued.  The  management  of  the  South 
Carolina  difficulties  would  naturally 
tend  to  strengthen  this  feeling.  Its  in- 
terruption by  this  recall  was  not  car- 
ried beyond  the  grave.  The  news  of 
General  Jackson's  death  reached  Gene- 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


387 


ral  Scott  when  Le  was  presiding  nt  tlie 
board  of  examiners  at  West  Point. 
He  spoke  a  few  words  of  eulogy,  and 
suspended  tlie  examination  for  tlie  day, 
as  a  token  of  respect.-^ 

In  1837,  the  prudence  and  judgment 
of  General  Scott  were  ao-ain  involved 
to  ward  off  the  war  which  seemed  to 
be  imminent  on  the  Canadian  frontier. 
Singularly  enough,  the  spot  to  which 
his  efforts  were  first  directed,  was  that 
portion  of  the  Niagara  River  above  the 
falls,  where  his  earliest  laurels  had  been 
won.  It  was  the  time  of  the  burning 
of  the  Caroline,  that  high-handed  mea- 
sure of  British  retaliation,  consequent 
upon  the  invasion  of  a  portion  of  their 
territory  by  a  lawless  band  of  ma- 
rauders. A  strong  party  under  the 
name  of  "  Sympathizers,"  was  eager  to 
make  common  cause  with  the  disaffected 
in  the  provinces.  There  were  anger 
and  outrage  on  both  sides,  when  Scott 
arrived  to  play  his  part  of  the  Great 
Pacificator.  He  stood  firmly,  but  cour- 
teously between  both  sides ;  arrested, 
by  his  influence  and  persuasions,  the 
incipient-  warfare,  and  gained  time  for 
the  sober  course  of  political  delibera- 
tion, and  two  years  later,  in  1839,  ren- 
dered the  same  good  service  in  Maine, 
when  the  country  appeared  to  be  in 
still  greater  danger  of  an  actual  out- 
break of  hostilities.  His  correspondence 
on  the  latter  occasion  with  Sir  John 
Harvey,  formerly  his  chivalric  antago- 
nist in  the  war  of  1812,  but  then  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor of  New  Brunswick, 
did  much  to  smooth  the  pathway  of 
negotiation,  for  the  withdrawal  of  the 


•  Mansfield's  Scott,  p.  118. 


troops  from  the  disputed  territory,  and 
the  peaceful  abeyance  of  the  question 
till  it  should  be  adjusted  by  treaty. 

Nothing  was  more  natural  after  this 
extended  series  of  services,  both  civil 
and  military,  than  that  General  Scott 
should  be  talked  of  for  the  Presidency. 
His  political  views  were  generally  un- 
derstood to  favor  the  principles  of  the 
Whigs;  he  was  accordingly  ballotted 
for  in  the  nominating  convention  of 
that  body,  in  1839,  which  settled  upon 
General  Harrison.  The  vote  cast  for 
him  reached,  in  one  of  the  ballotings, 
nea,r  one-fourth  of  the  entire  number. 
Henry  Clay,  to  whose  claims  Scott  was 
ever  willing  to  defer,  was  the  third 
candidate  before  the  convention.  In 
the  conventions  of  the  Whig  party  in 
the  succeeding  elections,  his  name  was 
not  forgotten  till  in  the  canvass  of  1852, 
his  fame  in  the  meantime  ripened  by 
the  brilliant  success  of  his  Mexican 
campaign,  he  was  brought  directly  be- 
fore the  public  as  the  candidate  for  the 
Presidency. 

In  1841,  several  years  previous  to 
the  breaking  out  of  that  war  of  annex- 
ation, General  Scott  became,  by  the 
death  of  Major-General  Macomb,  the 
senior  officer  of  the  American  army, 
and  consequently,  next  to  the  President, 
and  the  department  at  Washington, 
charged  "with  its  general  administration. 
Nothing  can  well  be  done  without  at 
least  consulting  the  experience  and 
listening  to  the  recommendations  of  this 
officer.  It  is  his  business,  beside  the 
discharge  of  particular  duties,  to  exer- 
cise a  general  supervision  over  the 
whole  army  administration,  and,  in  an 
annual  report,  bring  a  statement  of  its 


388 


WINEIELD  SCOTT. 


condition,  witli  sucli  suggestions  as  may 
occur  to  him  for  its  improvement,  to 
tlie  attention  of  tlie  Government.  Gen- 
eral Scott  was  enofao-ed  in  tliese  usual 
employments  of  his  office  at  the  period 
of  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  with 
Mexico.  He  had  not  been  called  upon 
to  make  any  preparations  for  the  con- 
flict, the  administration,  if  it  had  any 
distinct  intentions  in  the  matter,  not 
thinkino*  it  advisable  to  bring;  them 
tangibly  to  the  notice  of  the  public.  Of 
his  own  motion,  however,  he  had  called 
attention  to  the  weak  condition  of  the 
army  in  point  of  numbers,  and,  in  his 
report  of  November,  1845,  recom- 
mended the  filling  up  of  the  regiments, 
which  on  a  peace  footing,  contained 
but  half  their  complement.  "This," 
sa3^s  the  historian  of  these  events,  Mr. 
Mansfield,  "  was  General  Scott's  recom- 
mendation, without  looking  at  the  ques- 
tion of  war  with  Mexico ;  although  it 
now  appears,  from  official  documents, 
that  the  war  was  then  in  the  contem- 
plation of  the  cabinet.  Had  the  Pre- 
sident recommended  and  Congress  ac- 
ceded to  even  this  small  increase  of  the 
military  force,  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  the  invasion  of  Mexico  and  the 
sanguinary  battles  which  followed, 
would  ever  have  occurred.  General 
Taylor's  army  would  have  been  in- 
creased early  in  the  spring,  and  the 
Mexican  general  would,  not  improba- 
bly, have  refrained  from  an  attack,  to 
which  he  was  tempted  and  invited  by 
the  weakness  of  the  American  force."  ^ 
Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  and 
without  looking  at  the  good  or  evil  of 


'  Mansfield's  Mexican  War,  p.  27. 


thus  drifting  into  the  war,  it  is  certain 
from  our  knowledore  of  all  Scott's  ad- 
ministrative  course,  that  he  would  not 
have  gone  into  the  struggle  unpiepared. 
It  was  his  disadvantage  in  the  scenes 
which  ensued,  not  to  be  on  terms  of 
perfect  understanding  Avith  the  Govern- 
ment. The  general  arrangements,  in- 
deed, of  forwarding  the  largo  volunteer 
force  were  placed  in  his  hands,  and  it 
was  understood,  when  the  first  active 
preparations  were  made  on  the  break- 
ing out  of  hostilities  that  he  was  to 
take  the  command  in  the  field.  But 
while  he  was  bending  every  efibrt,  and 
bringing  all  his  resources  to  expedite 
the  army,  he  was  met  by  what  ap- 
peared to  him  at  least  a  suspicious 
proposition  of  the  administration  party 
in  the  Senate,  to  create  two  new  major- 
generals,  who  were  to  enjoy 'such  com- 
mand and  relative  rank  as  the  Presi- 
dent might  be  pleased  to  assign  them. 
The  bearing  of  this  upon  Scott  is  thus 
described  by  the  narrator  of  these  cir- 
cumstances just  cited.  "The  effect  of 
this  measure,  if  adopted,  would  give 
the  President  the  power  of  appointing, 
by  law,  some  new,  or  junior,  or  merely 
political  general  over  the  head  of  Scott. 
That  this  proposition,  coming  from  the 
political  friends  of  the  President,  should 
excite  the  sensibilities  of  Scott,  with 
the  idea  that  he  was  to  be  supplanted 
in  the  command  of  the  army,  was  most 
natural.  That  such  an  idea  was  not 
unjust  to  the  President,  or  his  friends 
in  Congress,  was  sufficiently  shown  by 
subsequent  events,  when  the  attempt 
was  openly  made,  and  nearly  succeeded, 
to  appoint  a  lieutenant-general  to  the 
command   of   the    American  army." 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


389 


This  last  allusion  is  to  the  bill  wliicli 
passed  the  House  of  Representatives, 
but  which  was  defeated  in  the  Senate, 
the  object  of  which  was  to  give  that 
important  and  responsible  position  to 
Senator  Benton,  who  had  busily  urged 
an  active  prosecution  of  the  war,  in 
place  of  the  "  masterly  inactivity "  re- 
commended by  Calhoun.^ 

Rendered  thus  uneasy  in  his  posi- 
tion, General  Scott  addressed,  in  some 
haste,  a  letter  to  Mr.  Marcy,  the  Secre- 
tary of  War,  who  had  also  complained 
of  the  dilatoriness  of  the  commander  in 
taking  the  field,  justifying  his  course 
in  making  his  preparations ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  expressing  his  reluctance  to 
proceed  on  so  important  a  mission 
without  "  the  active,  candid,  and  steady 
support  of  his  government."  He  accord- 
ingly suggested  that  "  some  other  com- 
mander of  the  new  army  against  Mex- 
ico should  be  selected,"  promising  his 
candid  aid  to  the  new  ofiicer,  "no  mat- 
ter who  he  may  be,"  and  adding,  in  a 
sentence  which  has  obtained  the  fami- 
liarity of  a  proverb — "My  explicit 
meaning  is,  that  I  do  not  desire  to  place 
myself  in  the  most  perilous  of  all  posi- 
tions— a  fire  upon  my  rear  from  Wash- 
ington, and  a  fire  in  front  from  the 
Mexicans."  We  need  not  here  pursue 
this  unpleasant  controversy  further,  or 
enter  into  its  motives,  or  seek  to  assign 
the  relative  success  of  the  disputants ; 
suffice  it  that  for  the  time  Scott  re- 
mained at  Washington  till  the  Grovern- 
ment,  balked  in  its  schemes  of  major- 
generals,  and  growing  impatient  of  the 
ineffective   though   brilliant  achieve- 


'  Benton's  Thirty  Years'  View,  II,  678. 

n.— 49 


ments  on  the  Rio  Grande  in  the  month 
of  November,  listened  to  his  request 
for  active  employment,  and  called  upon 
General  Scott  to  take  the  command  of 
the  force  intended  to  strike  a  blow  at 
the  heart  of  the  enemy's  country,  by 
the  line  of  Vera  Cruz.  Tliis  time  there 
was  no  interference.  "  It  is  not  pro- 
posed," wrote  Mr.  Marcy  in  his  order 
of  November  23d,  "to  control  your 
operations  by  definite  and  positive  in- 
structions, but  you  are  left  to  prosecute 
them,  as  your  judgment,  under  a  full 
view  of  all  the  circumstances  shall  dic- 
tate. The  work  is  before  you,  and  the 
means  provided,  or  to  be  provided,  for 
accomplishing  it  are  committed  to  you, 
in  the  full  confidence  that  you  will  use 
them  to  the  best  advantao^e." 

Thus  reassured  for  the  time  of  the 
support  of  the  Government,  and  expe- 
riencing, doubtless,  the  satisfaction  of 
this  compulsory  compliment  to  his 
military  genius,  he  proceeded  at  once 
to  the  seat  of  war.  Under  his  new  in- 
structions, it  became  necessary  to  divert 
an  important  portion  of  General  Tay- 
lor's command  from  his  line  to  the  new 
operations  on  the  Gulf;  in  fact,  the  re- 
duction of  the  army  of  the  Rio  Grande 
was  so  complete  as  to  arrest  the  ad- 
vance of  its  commander,  and  leave  him 
stripped  of  the  regulars,  with  a  small 
force  of  volunteers,  sufficient  only  for 
defence,  though  the  stubborn  invin- 
cibility of  Taylor  presently  made  even 
this  reduced  band  equal  to  the  brilliant 
victory  at  Buena  Vista. 

General  Scott  reached  the  Rio 
Grande,  by  way  of  New  Orleans,  in 
January,  184Y,  sending  before  him  a 
letter  to  General  Taylor,  a  model  of 


390 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


professional  and  gentlemanly  courtesy, 
in  wlucli,  so  far  as  words  could  allevi- 
ate an  unpleasant  necessity,  in  terms  in 
■which  the  motives  of  duty,  patriotism, 
and  even  a  chivalrous  appeal  to  friend- 
ship, are  blended  with  a  natural,  easy 
candor,  he  softened  the  withdrawal  of 
most  of  his  best  troops  from  that  com- 
mander. 

The  months  of  January  and  Febru- 
ary were  passed  by  General  Scott  on 
the  Eio  Grande,  collecting  his  forces  for 
the  rendezvous  at  the  island  of  Lobos, 
on  the  coast,  preparatory  to  his  descent 
upon  Vera  Cruz.  On  the  ninth  of 
March,  a  reconnaissance  having  been 
previously  carefully  made  by  him,  in 
company  with  Commodore  Connor, 
who  had  cliaro-e  of  the  naval  move- 
ments.  General  Scott  led  the  way 
from  the  last  rendezvous  at  Antonio 
Lizardo,  personally  directing  the  de- 
barcation  of  the  army.  The  spot  cho- 
sen was  some  three  miles  below  the 
city,  on  the  bank  opposite  the  island 
of  Sacrificios.  Every  disposition  was 
made  to  receive  an  attack ;  but  the 
place  was  found  unguarded  by  the 
enemy.  With  this  advantage  and  a 
smooth  sea,  the  admirable  military  and 
naval  arrangements  which  had  been 
planned  with  consummate  skill,  were 
carried  out  with  the  greatest  regularity. 
The  landing  of  the  whole  force  of  some 
ten  thousand,  was  completed  in  the 
evening,  without  the  slightest  accident. 
The  line  of  investment  of  the  city  was 
immediately  taken  up.  It  was  a  work 
of  no  little  labor,  owing  to  the  extra- 
ordinary difficulties  of  the  ground.  A 
raging  Norther  swept  the  loose  sand- 
hillocks,  almost   stifling  the  troops ; 


while  the  inefficient  means  of  land- 
transportation  added  greatly  to  their 
toils.    They  all  worked  with  a  good 
will,  however,  completing  the  line  of 
five  miles  on  the  twelfth.    Ten  days 
were  passed  in  forwarding  the  preli- 
minary operations  of  the  siege,  landing 
the  heavy  guns  from  the  ships,  and 
opening  the  trenches.    On  the  twenty- 
second,  the  preparations  for  attack  be- 
ing well  advanced,  General  Scott  sum- 
moned the  city  to  surrender.    A  refusal 
was  returned  and  the  fire  from  the 
mortar  batteries  opened  the  same  day 
upon  the  toAvn,  seconded  by  some  of 
the  smaller  vessels  of  the  squadron. 
New  batteries  were  added,  and  the  fire 
continued  without  abatement,  and  with 
great  damage  to  the  town  till  the  morn- 
ing of  the  twenty-sixth,  when  overtures 
were  received  from  the  Mexican  com- 
mander, which  ended  in  the  capitula- 
tion of  the  city  and  castle  of  San  Juan 
d'Ulloa.    The  town,  which  had  offered 
a  gallant  resistance,  was  thus  spared 
the  horrors  of  the  impending  final  as- 
sault. The  surrender  of  the  fort,  which 
defended  the  place  from  the  sea,  and 
was  considered  impregnable,  followed, 
as  a  consequence  of  the  taking  of  the 
city.    After  that,  it  would  have  been 
compelled  to  destroy  what  it  was  de- 
signed to  protect.    The  surrender  was 
entire.    This   great   triumph,  accom- 
plished with  little  loss  to  the  assailants, 
inaugurated  a  series  of  victories,  ex- 
tending from  this  base  of  operations  on 
the  sea,  along  the  line  of  the  national 
road  to  the  very  walls  of  the  capital. 

On  the  eighth  of  April  the  advance  is 
begun  by  the  division  of  General  Twiggs. 
The  first  stand  is  made  by  Santa  Anna 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


391 


it  tlie  defile  and  heights  of  Cerro  Gordo, 
a  strong  position,  some  sixty  miles  from 
Vera  Cruz,  Availed  in  by  mountains  and 
protected  })y  a  deep  river.    There,  with 
batteries  skillfully  disposed  at  the  ap- 
proaches, in  front  of  the  crowning  for- 
tress of  Cerro  Gordo,  the  Mexican  Gen- 
eral, with  some  twelve  thousand  men, 
partly  the  remains  of  liis  army  de- 
feated nearly  two  months  before,  at 
Buena  Vista,  awaited   the  approach 
of  the  Americans,  numbering?  about 
eight  thousand  five  hundred.    A  plan 
of  attack  was  set  forth  by  General 
Scott,  in  a  general  order  on  the  seven- 
teenth of  April,  for  the  following  day. 
"  The  enemy's  whole  line  of  entrencli- 
ments  and  batteries,"  commences  this 
remarkable   document,  "will   be  at- 
tacked in  front,  and  at  the  same  time 
turned,  early  in  the  day,  to-morrow — 
probably  before  ten  o'clock,  a.m.  ;" — a 
sentence  which  has  its  happy  sequel 
and  consummation  in  the  opening  of 
the  same  commander's  next  dispatch  to 
the  Secretary  of  War,  of  the  nineteenth : 
"Sir,  the  plan  of  attack  sketched  in 
General    Order  forwarded  herewith, 
was  finely  executed  by  this  gallant 
army,  before  two  o'clock,  p.m.,  yester- 
day."   The  history  of  the  battle  had 
been  thus  already  written.    The  main 
incidents  of  this  brilliant  achievement 
were  the  advance  of  General  Twiggs  by 
a  road  opened  through  the  wood  to  the 
enemy's  left,  where,  the  night  having 
been  spent  in  raising  several  heavy 
guns  to  a  captured  hill,  commanding 
a  portion  of  the  enemy's  position,  the 
morning  witnessed  the  successful  as- 
sault of  the  works  on  the  height  of 
Cerro  Gordo,  by  the  gallant  Harvey 


and  his  command,  with  the  immediate 
pursuit  of  the  flying  Mexicans.  The 
attack  upon  the  enemy's  batteries  in 
advance,  was  not  at  first  successful  Init 
they  were  soon  rendered  untenable  by 
the  movements  in  their  rear.  The  rout 
was  complete.  "  We  are  quite  embar- 
rassed," wrote  Scott,  "  with  the  results 
of  victory — prisonej^^f  war,  heavy  ord- 
nance, field  batteries,  small  arms,  and 
accoutrements.  About  three  thousand 
men  laid  down  their  arms,  with  the 
usual  proportion  of  field  and  company 
officers,  besides  five  generals,  several  of 
them  of  great  distinction."  The  cost 
of  this  special  victory  to  the  Americans 
was  comparatively,  inconsiderable— six- 
ty-three killed,  including  three  officers, 
and  three  hundred  and  sixty-six  wound- 
ed. The  enemy's  loss  in  killed  and 
wounded,  exclusive  of  the  prisoners 
taken,  was  very  much  greater. 

The  losses  of  an  army,  however,  are 
not  solely  to  be  estimated  by  the  dis- 
asters in  the  field.    The  exposures  of 
the  camp,  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  con- 
stitution on  the  march,  the  diseases  of 
new  countries,  the  reaction  of  extraor- 
dinary efforts  and  labors,  supported  by 
the  stimulus  of  the  hour,  fill  hospitals 
and  thicken  .graves  more  than  the  bul- 
lets of  the  enemy.    It  need  not  sur- 
prise us,  therefore,  that  General  Scott's 
effective  force,  on  his  taking  peaceable 
possession  of  Puebla,  on  his  advance 
toward  the  capital,  after  his  recent  vic- 
tories, was  only  about  four  thousand 
five  hundred  men.    It  was  a  force  large 
enough  to  maintain  its  position  where- 
ever  it  might  be,  and  perhaps  to  meet 
m  a  single  engagement  any  superior 
army  which  the  Mexicans  might  brino- 


392 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


into  the  field ;  but  the  further  approach 
to  the  capital  involved  a  series  of  mili- 
tary encounters  and  desperate  assaults, 
to  which  so  small  a  body,  though  every 
man  might  be  a  Julius  Caesar,  was  en- 
tirely inadequate.  It  was  a  matter  of 
necessity,  therefore,  to  wait  for  reinforce- 
ments. They  should  have  been  pro- 
vided before ;  bi^.Congress  had  been 
uncertain  and  dilatory  in  action,  and  it 
was  not  till  the  seventh  of  August,  after 
nearly  three  months'  comparative  in- 
action, that  the  army,  reinforced  by  the 
newly-raised  regiments,  took  up  its 
march  toward  the  city  of  Mexico.  Its 
marching  force  consisted  of  nearly  ele- 
ven thousand  men,  arranged  under  four 
divisions,  commanded  respectively  by 
Grenerals  Worth,  Twiggs,  Pillow,  and 
Quitman,  and  the  cavalry  brigade  of 
Colonel  Harvey.  Four  days  pursuing 
the  way  along  the  national  road,  brought 
the  advance  to  Ayotla,  in  the  valley 
of  Mexico,  fifteen  miles  from  the  capi- 
tal, on  its  eastern  side.  In  the  inter- 
vening space  were  the  strongly  fortified 
hill  El  Penon,  and  the  well-protected 
pass  by  Mexicalcingo.  A  reconnaissance 
was  made  of  these  points  with  great 
hardihood,  which  confirmed  General 
Scott's  previous  view,  that  the  proper 
approach  for  his  army  to  the  capital 
would  be,  not  by  these  powerful  de- 
fences where  the  attack  was  naturally 
expected,  but  by  another  route  less 
protected  to  the  south.  He  accord- 
ingly, having  assured  himself  of  the 
practicability  of  this  new  expedient, 
reversing  the  line  of  march,  directed 
the  course  of  the  army  to  that  quarter, 
on  the  fifteenth,  round  the  southern 
side  of  Lake  Chalco.    The  whole  of 


this  new  route  was  rough  and  perilous, 
and  beset  with  difficulties  calculated  to 
test  the  patience  of  the  troops.  They 
were   disadvantages,  however,  which 
might  be  overcome  with  less  loss  of 
life  than  the  well-fortified  positions  and 
causeway  on  the  eastern  side.  In  three 
days  the  army  had  changed  its  posi- 
tion and  was  at  San  Augustine,  the 
base  of  operations.    In  front  of  it  were 
the  strong  position  of  the  Heights  of 
Contreras,  the  entrenchments  of  Cheru- 
busco,  while,  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
borhood of  the  city,  frowned  the  for- 
tified hill  of  Chepultepec,  with  its 
adjacent  defence,  Molino  del  Rey.  All 
of  those  places,  manned  by  the  best 
troops  in  Mexico,  on  the  approach  of 
the   American   army  offered   an  ob- 
stinate resistance,  happily  determined 
by  their  enrollment  on  the  list  of  Ame- 
rican victories.     Contreras,  separated 
from  the  encampment  by  a  rough  bed 
of  broken  rock,  the  famous  pedregal, 
when  once  reached,  commanded  a  good 
road  to  the  capital,  and  if  taken,  would 
turn  the  fortified  position  of  San  An- 
tonio, on  the  direct  road  from  San 
Augustine.    To  Contreras,  accordingly, 
General  Scott  first  directed  his  atten- 
tion.    General  Valencia  was  posted 
there  with  a  battery  of  twenty-two 
pieces  of  artillery  and  about  six  thou- 
sand men  of  the  army  of  the  north. 
The  immediate  direction  of  the  assault 
fell  to  General  Smith,  who,  before  dawn 
of  the  morning  of  the  twentieth,  gal 
lantly  carried  the  works,  the  Mexicans 
almost  instantly  retreating  before  the 
fierce  onset  in  the  greatest  confusion, 
suffering  heavy  losses  of  killed  and 
wounded,  and  leaving  a  large  number 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


393 


of  prisoners  and  a  Luge  quantity  of 
war  material  behind  tliem. 

The  road  in  that  direction  was  now 
open  to  Cherubusco,  some  six  miles  dis- 
tant, and  its  other  approach  from  San 
Antonio  having  been  cleared  of  the 
enemy,  that  important  position  be- 
came the  next  object  of  attack.  It  was 
defended  by  a  field-work  at  the  bridge 
entering  the  town,  the  adjacent  fortified 
church  and  grounds  of  the  convent 
of  San  Pablo,  and  the  banks  of  the 
river.  The  works  were  supported  by 
the  whole  reserve  of  Santa  Anna,  and 
i  he  best  troops  about  the  capital,  num- 
bering in  all  some  twenty-seven  thou- 
sand. The  same  day,  so  brilliantly 
opened  with  the  victory  at  Contreras, 
saw  the  defeat  of  the  Mexicans  at  Che- 
rubusco. The  bridge  head,  or  tUe  du 
pont,  was  gallantly  carried  by  a  portion 
of  Worth's  command ;  Greneral  Twiggs 
directed  the  attack  against  the  convent, 
and  General  Shields  met  the  outlying 
forces  of  the  enemy  in  a  serious  en- 
counter. The  result,  as  in  all  previous 
instances,  was  the  undoubted  superi- 
ority of  the  Americans ;  who,  however, 
in  these  Mexican  battles,  had  always 
full  opportunity  of  showing  their  met- 
tle and  endurance.  The  capital  was 
now  open  to  the  conquerors ;  but,  with 
his  accustomed  magnanimity,  General 
Scott  paused  before  assailing  the  city, 
to  give  one  more  opportunity  to  those 
negotiations  of  peace  which  had  fol- 
lowed and  checked  the  whole  progress 
of  the  war.  It  was  literally  the  con- 
quest of  a  peace.  At  this  last  moment, 
Santa  Anna  was  still  looked  to  for  that 
desirable  consummation.  An  armistice 
was  agreed  upon,  which  resulted,  after 


more  than  a  fortnight's  delay,  in  the 
resumption  of  hostilities.  On  the  eighth 
of  September  was  fought  the  fiercely- 
contested  action  of  Molino  del  Rey, 
the  defeat  of  a  greatly  superior  force, 
holding  a  very  strong  position,  followed 
on  the  thirteenth,  by  the  last  crowning 
victory  of  Chepultepec,  and  the  passage 
of  the  minor  defences,  opening  the  way 
for  the  American  army  to  the  city  of 
Mexico.  That  night  a  portion  of  the 
army  was  within  the  city.  The 
next  day,  the  fourteenth,  the  Mex- 
ican army  having  left  before  morning, 
the  city  council  surrendered  the  capital 
and  the  American  commander  entered 
in  triumph.  It  was  taken,  in  the  com- 
prehensive language  of  his  dispatch, 
the  simplest  and  happiest  eulogy  of  the 
many  actors  of  the  scenes  leading  to 
this  event,  "  Not  by  any  one  or  two 
corps,  but  by  the  talent,  the  science, 
the  gallantry,  the.  prowess  of  this  entire 
army." 

One  last  military  service,  not  less  im- 
posing or  of  inferior  weight  to  those 
we  have  passed  in  review,  remains  to 
be  recorded  of  the  now  aged  general. 
In  the  autumn  and  winter  of  1860, 
when  the  voice  of  rebellion  threatened 
the  integrity  of  the  Government  of  the 
United  States,  and  the  safety  of  the 
national  capital  began  to  be  threatened 
by  the  bold  hand  of  treason.  General 
Scott,  at  the  last  moment,  was  called 
by  President  Buchanan  to  Washington, 
to  assist  with  his  council  in  the  military 
preservation  of  the  State.  The  invita- 
tion found  him  ready  to  meet  it.  Once 
and  again,  he  had  expressed  his  patri- 
otic sentiments  in  no  equivocal  terms ; 
nor  was  it  to  be  doubted  by  any  that, 


394 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


tliougli  allied  hy  birtli  and  various  ties 
to  the  southern  soil,  he  would  suffer  no 
local  claim  or  interest  to  interfere  with 
his  paramount  duty  to  his  flag  and 
country.  His  j)resence  in  Washington, 
in  the  political  crisis  of  January,  1861, 
when  the  poAvers  of  government,  under 
the  unfovorable  influence  of  the  Presi- 
dent's recent  unhappy  message,  seemed 
for  the  time  paralyzed,  was  accepted  as 
a  happy  omen  for  the  nation.  It  was 
soon  felt,  as  the  demand  for  action  be- 
came more  and  more  imminent,  that 
the  old  chieftain  of  the  army  would 
stand  forth  yet  again  the  protector  of 
the  State  which  his  right  arm  had  so 
often  assisted  to  strengthen.  Nor  was 
the  expectation  disappointed.  Under 
his  guidance  and  supervision,  during 
the  last  days  of  the  administration  of 
Mr.  Buchanan,  and  the  startling  months 
of  trials  which  greeted  his  successor, 
nothing  was  left  undone  by  him  to 
secure  the  capital  and  place  the  scanty 
military  reserves  of  the  country  in  the 
best  position  to  meet  the  coming  shock. 
He  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  those  de- 
fences of  the  nation,  fearfully  thinned 
as  were  tlie  ranks  of  the  higher  officers 
of  the  army  by  treason  or  disaffection, 
growing  gradually  stronger  under  liis 
eye,  as  volunteers  flocked  to  his  com- 
mand, preserving  the  city,  the  palla- 
dium of  the  government,  till  Congress 
evoked  a  force  capable  of  resisting  the 
vast  numbers  of  the  Confederacy  in 
arms.  During  tlie  winter,  the  spring, 
and  summer  of  1861,  General  Scott 
remained  at  AVashington,  controlling, 
directing,  and  supervising  the  vast  field 
of  military  operations,  stretching  from 
the  Potomac  to  the  farthest  west. 


At  len2:th,  worn  out  with  labors  and 
infirmities,  the  hour  came  when  he 
must  resign  this  important  command 
to  younger  hands.  Few  scenes  in  our 
national  history  are  more  impi'essive 
than  the  simple  and  dignified  with- 
drawal of  General  Scott,  on  the  first  of 
November,  1861,  at  Washington.  In  a 
parting  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  War, 
he  stated  the  physical  necessities  which 
had  rendered  his  retirement  inevitable, 
and  thanked  that  officer  and  the  Pre- 
sident for  the  personal  kindness  he  had 
received,  and  complimented  the  latter 
on  his  conscientious  performance  of 
duty  in  his  high  office.  A  cabinet 
meeting  was  held,  and  upon  the  accep- 
tance of  the  re-signation,  that  body  ac- 
companied the  Chief  Magistrate  to  the 
General's  residence.  The  ord^er  of  re- 
tirement was  there  read  by  President 
Lincoln.  It  announced  the  honorable 
privilege,  previously  accorded  by  Con- 
gress, of  the  continuance  of  the  pay 
and  emoluments  of  the  Lieutenant-Gen- 
eral,  and  added  one  heartfelt  sentence 
of  gratitude  and  respect.  "  The  Ameri- 
can people,"  was  its  language,  "  will 
hear  with  sadness  and  deep  emotion 
that  General  Scott  has  withdrawn  from 
the  active  control  of  the  army,  while 
the  President  and  unanimous  Cabinet 
express  their  own  and  tlie  nation's 
sympathy  in  his  personal  affliction,  and 
their  profound  sense  of  the  important 
public  services  rendered  by  him  to  his 
country  during  his  long  and  brilliant 
career,  among  which  will  ever  be  grate- 
fully distinguished  his  faithful  devo- 
tion to  the  Constitution,  the  Union,  and 
the  flag,  when  assailed  by  paricidal 
rebellion."    Nor  was  the  parting  less 


WINFIELD  SCOTT. 


395 


friendly  and  pathetic  Avitli  the  3'oiing 
officer  General  McClellan,  to  whom  was 
now  delegated  the  vast  responsibilities 
from  which  the  worn-out  hero  with- 
drew. 

General  Scott  was  accompanied  to 
New  York  by  several  members  of  the 
cabinet,  where,  after  a  few  days  of  rest, 
declining  meanwhile  all  public  atten- 
tions, he  sailed  on  the  ninth  of  Novem- 
ber, in  the  steamship  Arago,  for  Ha^-e, 
with  the  hope  of  benefiting  his  greatly 
impaired  health  by  a  few  months  of 
winter  travel  in  Europe,  In  Paris  he 
was  enabled  to  render  an  important 


service  to  his  country,  in  the  assurance 
which  he  published  of  friendliness 
between  the  nations,  when  Great  Brit- 
ain was  in  a  fever  of  excitement  over 
the  arrest  of  the  steamer  Trent,  by 
Captain  Wilkes.  Anxious  to  be  again 
in  America,  General  Scott  presently 
returned  and  made  his  permanent  re- 
sidence— in  the  winter  months,  in  the 
city  of  New  York,  in  summer  at 
West  Point,  where,  on  one  remarkable 
occasion,  in  1862,  a  hurried  visit  was 
paid  him  by  President  Lincoln,  to 
consult  on  a  point  of  military  expe- 
diency. 


GEORGE  BANCROFT 


Geoege  Baistcroet,  tlie  eminent  His- 
torian of  the  United  States,  is  a  native 
of  the  State  of  Massachusetts.  He  was 
bom  October  3d,  1800,  at  the  town  of 
Worcester,  where  his  father,  Aaron 
Bancroft,  a  distinguished  Congrega- 
tional clergyman,  had  been  settled  for 
many  years.  To  his  parent  the  son  is 
doubtless  indebted  for  the  prevailing 
influence  towards  literary  studies  and 
pursuits  which  has  governed  his  life. 
Dr.  Bancroft,  the  elder,  indeed  was  an 
accomplished  writer,  of  a  well-discip- 
lined mind,  and  master  of  a  style  of  no 
little  felicity ;  his  sermons  on  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel  were  admired  by 
President  John  Adams,  as  "  a  chain  of 
diamonds  set  in  links  of  gold,"  and  his 
life  of  Washington  is  one  of  the  most 
noticeable  of  the  many  epitomes  of  a 
subject  which,  since  the  day  in  which 
the  book  was  written,  has  grown  so 
largely  in  the  hands  of  the  biographer. 

A  parent  who  had  risen  from  the 
humble,  but  honorable  pursuits  of  a 
farmer's  boy,  to  a  distinguished  rank 
in  the  pulpit,  and  a  reputation 
man  of  letters,  was  not  likely  to  neglect 
the  education  of  his  son.  We  accord- 
ingly find  him  training  the  young 
George  with  care,  and  early  placing 
him  under  the  direction  of  the  eminent 
Dr.  Abbott,  at  the  Phillips  Exeter  Aca- 

896 


demy  in  New  Hampshire,  a  school 
famous  for  having  included  in  its  ranks 
numbers  of  the  most  distinguished  men 
of  New  England,  in  every  walk  of  pro- 
fessional life.  That  the  boy  was  of  a 
quick  mental  turn,  fully  capable  of  pro- 
fiting by  all  which  might  be  placed  in 
his  way,  of  books  or  instruction,  we 
have  the  testimony  of  a  contemporary 
letter  written  by  Dr.  Nathan  Parker  of 
Portsmouth,  a  divine  of  repute,  to  the 
father  of  the  pupil.  It  is  dated  in 
October,  1811,  when  the  boy  was  in 
his  twelfth  year ;  and  records  a  visit  to 
the  school  and  a  conversation  with 
Master  George,  and  the  favorable  im- 
pression made  upon  him  in  this  inter- 
view. The  youth  was  "  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  his  situation,"  which  was  a 
good  sign  to  begin  with.  He  was  also 
in  good  health,  which  was  something 
more  to  the  point.  "  I  was  surprised," 
writes  this  friend  of  the  family,  "  at  the 
intelligence  with  which  he  conversed, 
and  the  maturity  of  mind  which  he 
discovered."  He  found  the  lad,  though 
the  youngest  but  three  in  the  academy, 
emulous  of  the  prizes  which  were  dis- 
tributed, "  He  did  not  think  he  should 
gain  one,  but  he  would  try.  These 
(he  adds),  you  may  say  are  trifling 
things,  but  they  discover  a  disposition 
of  mind,  with  which  I  think  you  must 


I 


:  I: 

I':' 


3 


GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


397 


be  gratified.  I  made  inquiries  of  Mr. 
Abbott  concerning  liim.  He  observed 
tliat  he  was  a  very  fine  lad ;  that  lie 
appeared  to  have  the  stamina  of  a  dis- 
tinguished man ;  that  he  took  his  rank 
among  the  first  scholars  in  the  academy, 
and  that  he  wished  I  would  send 
him  half  a  dozen  such  boys."  Sucli 
praises  of  preceptors,  not  always  dis- 
interested, are,  indeed,  to  be  taken  witli 
a  grain  of  allowance ;  but  in  the  pre- 
sent instance  the  testimony,  so  well 
sustained  by  the  result,  is  of  value.  It 
shows  that  the  excellence  of  after  life 
is  but  the  continuance  of  an  influence 
possessed  or  received  in  childhood. 
The  sense  of  obligation  then  assumed, 
masters  circumstances  in  every  succes- 
sive relation  of  the  man. 

There  was  an  early  development  in 
the  youth,  for,  entering  Harvard  at 
thirteen,  he  graduated   at  seventeen 
with  the  second  honors  of  his  class — 
the  class  including  many  members  who 
have  since  become  distino-uished,  amon^ 
them,  the  author  and  politician,  Caleb 
Gushing,  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Stephen  H. 
Tyng.    In  the  following  year,  1818, 
Mr.  Bancroft  visited  Europe  for  the 
purpose  of  prosecuting  his  studies  in 
the  eminent  universities  of  Germany. 
He  was  at  Gottingen  two  years,  profit- 
ing by  the   instructions  of  eminent 
scholars  who  then  illustrated  that  seat 
of  learning — Blumenbach  in  natural 
history,  Eichorn  in  the  oriental  lan- 
guages,  Heeren   in   ancient  history, 
Dissen  in  the  antiquities  and  litera- 
ture of  Greece  and  Rome.    With  the 
last    he   went    through    a  complete 
course  of  Greek  philosophy,  and  read 
in  the  original  nearly  all  the  writ- 
n.— 50 


ings  of  Plato,  of  whom  the  profes 
sor  was  a  devout  admirer.  Having 
obtained  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Phi- 
losophy, Mr.   Bancroft   proceeded  to 
Berlin,  where  he  listened  to  the  lec- 
tures of  Wolf,  the  editor  of  Homer,  of 
Schleiermacher  and  I-Iegel.    At  Heidcl- 
herg  he  studied  with   the  historian 
Schlosser,  all  the  while  making  the 
acquaintance  of  the  eminent  scholars 
of  the  day.    Before  returning  to  Ame- 
rica he  made  the  tour  of  Ens^land, 
Switzerland,  Germany,  and  Italy,  stor- 
ing his  mind  with  the  ample  materials 
for  reflection  furnished  in  their  great 
galleries  of  art  and  science,  and  their 
living  social  condition.    At  Paris,  he 
became  acquainted  with  Cousin,  Alex- 
ander Von  Humboldt,  and  Benjamin 
Constant;  he  had  seen  Goethe  in  Ger- 
many ;  in  Italy  he  fell  in  with  Lord 
Byron,  Manzoni  at  Milan,  and  Chevalier 
Bunsen  and  Mebuhr  at  Rome.  The 
example  of  the  German  scholars  taught 
him  the  value  of  labor  in  research, 
while    their     philosophical  acumen 
pointed  out   the  way  to  make  that 
labor  a  kindling,  life-imparting  reality. 
The  thoroughness  of  his  studies,  says 
the   account  in  the  "  Cyclopaedia  of 
American  Literature,"  is  shown  in  the 
philosophical  summaries  of  Roman  his- 
tory and  policy,  and  of  the  literature 
of  Germany,  then  rapidly  gaining  the 
ascendant,  which  he,  not  long  after, 
published  in  America;  while  a  thin 
volume  of  poems,  published  at  Boston, 
in  1823,  witnesses  to  his  imaginative 
enthusiasm  for  art  and  nature,  as  he 
surveyed  the  ruins  of  Italy  and  tra- 
versed the  sublime  scenery  of  Switzer- 
land.   About  this  time,  also,  between 


398 


GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


his  eigliteenth  and  liis  twenty-fourth 
year,  he  wrote  a  series  of  translations 
in  verse,  of  some  of  the  chief  minor 
poems  of  Schiller,  Goethe,  and  other 
German  authors,  which  were  published 
in  the  "  North  American  Keview."  He 
furnished,  likewise,  for  the  "  American 
Quarterly  Keview,"  edited  by  the  late 
Robert  Walsh,  a  number  of  articles, 
marked  by  their  academic  and  philo- 
sophic spirit ;  among  others,  a  striking 
paper  on  the  Doctrine  of  Tempera- 
ments;  a  kindred  philosophical  essay 
on  Ennui,  and  papers  on  Poland  and 
Russia,  of  historical  sagacity  and  pene- 
tration.   In  1824,  he  published  a  trans- 
lation of  Heeren's  Reflections  on  the 
Politics  of  Ancient  Greece.    He  also 
brought  before  the  public  other  works 
of  Heeren  on  the  States  of  antiquity, 
and  the  political  system  of  Europe  and 
its  colonies,  from  the  discovery  of  Ame- 
rica to  the  termination  of  the  struggle 
for  freedom  of  the  British  colonies. 

At  the  outset,  Mr.  Bancroft's  studies 
were  directed  to  theology,  and  "he 
preached,"  says  Mr.  AUibone  in  his 
"Dictionary  of  English  Literature," 
'  "  several  discourses  which  produced  a 
favorable  opinion  of  his  talents  in  this 
department;  but  a  love  of  literature 
proved  the  stronger  attachment."  From 
the  bent  of  his  mind,  w^e  may  presume, 
had  he  continued  in  that  relation,  he 
would  have  distinguished  himself  by 
his  metaphysical  speculations.  His 
able  discourse  on  Jonathan  Edwards, 
read  before  the  New  York  Historical 
Society,  and  published  in  "  Appleton's 
Cyclopsedia,"  is  an  indication  of  the 
fineness  and  strength  of  his  powers  in 
this  theological  direction. 


In  1822,  and  the  following  year,  im- 
mediately after  his  return  from  Europe, 
we  find  Mr.  Bancroft's  name  on  the  list 
of  tutors  at  Harvard  College,  where  he 
gave  instruction  in  Greek.    He  was 
subsequently  employed  in  the  work  of 
education  in  association  with  Dr.  Joseph 
G.  Cogswell,  the  eminent  librarian  of 
the  Astor  Library,  in  the  conduct  of 
the  Round  Hill  School,  at  Northamp- 
ton, Massachusetts.    All  this  while  he 
was  an  earnest  student  of  politics,  in 
history  and  the  national  life  around 
him.    His  views  led  him  to  embrace 
the  principles  of  the  Democratic  party, 
then  in  the  ascendant,  under  the  strong 
influence  of  General  Jackson's  successful 
administration.    He  became  an  advo- 
cate of  the  party  doctrines,  promoted 
its  interests,  and  was  rewarded  by  Pre- 
sident Van  Buren,  in  1838,  with  the 
coUectorship  of-  the  port  of  Boston. 
He  held  the  office  for  three  years,  dis- 
charging its  duties  with  his  accustomed 
earnestness.    In  1844,  he  was  the  can- 
didate of  the  Democratic  minority  in 
Massachusetts,  for  the  office  of  Governor 
of  the  State.    In  the  following  year  he 
was  called  by  President  Polk  to  assist 
in   his   cabinet  as  Secretary  of  the 
Navy,  and  marked  the  brief  period 
devoted  to  his  new  duties,  by  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  Naval  School  at 
Annapolis,  and  his  care  of  the  astro- 
nomical observatory  at   the  Capitol 
In  1846,  he  was  appointed  Minister  Ple- 
nipotentiary to  Great  Britain,  holding 
the  office  for  three  years,  accomplish- 
ing, among  other  diplomatic  business, 
an  important  modification  of  the  British 
restrictions  in  their  Navigation  Laws. 
On  his  return  to  the  United  States 


GEORGE  BANCROFT. 


399 


lie  establislied  liis  residence  in  tlie  city 
of  New  York. 

He  now  devoted  himself  earnestly  to 
Lis  great  work,  "The  History  of  the 
United  States  from  the  Discovery  of 
the  American  Continent."  The  first 
volnme  was  written  during  his  resi- 
dence at  Northampton,  and  was  pub- 
lished in  1834;  a  second,  completed 
during  a  residence  at  Springfield,  fol- 
lowed in  1837,  and  a  third  in  1840;  so 
that  the  author  carried  with  him  to 
England  a  reputation  as  an  historian. 
His  labors  were  welcomed  by  Edward 
Everett  in  the  "North  American  Ke- 
view,"  and  by  Professor  Heeren  in 
Germany.  "  We  know  few  modern  his- 
toric works,"  said  the  latter,  "  in  which 
the  author  has  reached  so  high  an  ele- 
vation at  once  as  an  historical  inquirer 
and  an  historical  writer." 

This  consciousness  of  his  great  work, 
the  animating  impulse  of  all  historians, 
from  Herodotus  to  Macauley,  has  never 
ftiiled  him.  The  successive  volumes  of 
the  series  have,  if  possible,  increased 
the  author's  care  and  responsibility. 
The  gratitude  of  the  public  has  warmed 
him  to  new  labors.  His  political  career 
and  residence  abroad  as  ambassador,  so 
far  from  interrupting  his  toils,  only 
added  a  weight  of  experience  of  direct 
profit  to  the  historian,  with  whom  a 
practical  knowledge  of  affairs  is  of  the 
first  importance.  Eesuming  the  record 
in  1852,  with  the  publication  of  the 
fourth  volume,  which  traces  the  period 
from  1748,  the  author  advanced  rapidly 
to  the  fifth  and  sixth,  the  last  of  which 
brought  the  narrative  to  the  immediate 
commencement  of  the  Eevolution,  pre- 


ceding the  actual  outbreak  in  Massa- 
chusetts. This  was  published  in  1854. 
In  1858  the  work  was  resumed  with 
the  History  of  the  Eevolution,  of  which 
the  second  volume,  the  eighth  of  the 
whole  work,  appeared  in  1860.  Its 
progress  in  events,  as'  the  theatre  of 
action  has  been  enlarged,  has  been  at- 
tended with  a  proportionate  increase 
9f  power  and  interest,  a  result  which 
might  naturally  be  expected,  as  the 
author  approaches  his  own  time  and 
sweeps  into  the  vast  world  of  modern 
European  diplomacy,  where  the  sove- 
reigns of  Europe,  like  the  deities  in 
Homer,  mingle  in  the  affray,  and  out 
of  the  vast  contest  is  born  the  new 
American  liberty. 

In  1855,  Mr.  Bancroft  published  a 
volume  of  "Literaiy  and  Historical 
Miscellanies,"  including  several  of  the 
early  compositions  to  which  we  have 
already  alluded,  with  the  addition  of 
several   occasional   addresses,  among 
them  an  oration  commemorative  of  An- 
drew Jackson,  and  an  anniversary  dis- 
course before  the  New  York  Historical 
Society,  on  "  The  Necessity,  the  Eeality, 
and  the  Promise  of  the  Progress  of  the 
Human  Eace,"  one  of  the  most  elabo- 
rate of  his  philosophical  essays.  To 
this  enumeration  we  may  add  his  lec- 
tures on  "The  Culture,  the  Support, 
and  the  Object ^f  Art  in  a  Eepublic," 
"The  Office,  appropriate  Culture,  and 
Duty  of  the  Mechanic,"  an  historical 
oration  at  the  celebration  of  the  Battle 
of  King's  Mountain,  in  1855,  and  a 
brief  oration  at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  at  the 
inauguration  of  a  statue  of  Commodore 
Perry. 


EDWARD 


EVERETT. 


A  LIFE  of  honorable  mental  activity 
of  no  common  order  is  presented  to 
us  in  the  career  of  Edward  Everett. 
From  early  youth  lie  is  found  alvs^ays 
in  some  distinguished  sphere  of  action, 
not  inharmoniously  reconciling  pursuits 
seldom  united  by  his  countrymen.  He 
brings  from  his  study  the  fruits  of 
quiet  and  retired  scholarship  to  orna- 
ment the  utilitarian  necessities  of  the 
day — a  man  of  taste  and  elegance  in 
letters,  it  has  been  his  fortune  to  be 
deeply  engaged  in  public  affairs — from 
his  powers  of  mind  and  qualifications, 
he  might  be  a  professor,  a  preacher,  a 
poet,  an  essayist,  a  consummate  orator,  a 
popular  writer,  a  legislator,  a  cabinet 
minister,  an  ambassador,  the  head  of  a 
college,  or  the  head  of  a  State :  nay, 
he  has  been  all  these  and  honorably 
celebrated  in  each. 

He  was  born  in  Dorchester,  Massa- 
chusetts, April  11th,  1*794.  His  father, 
Oliver  Everett,  known  as  a  clergyman 
and  occupant  at  one  time  of  the  pulj^it 
of  the  Old  South  Church,  in  Boston, 
and  subsequently  as  Judge  of  the  Court 
of  Common  Pleas  for  Norfolk,  belonged 
to  a  family  which  had  lived  in  the 
town  of  Dedham  from  the  first  settle- 
ment of  the  country.  "  My  forefathers," 
said  on  one  occasion  the  subject  of  our 

400 


sketch,  "were  very  humble  men — 
farmers  and  mechanics — and  devoted 
themselves  to  a  most  unambitious  career. 
They  left  nothing  to  their  descendants, 
of  either  fame  or  fortune,  but  a  good 
name."  Edward  Everett  thus  sprang 
from  the  heart  of  the  yeomanry  of  New 
England,  and  his  boyhood  was  edu- 
cated under  her  most  wholesome  in- 
fluences. The  accomplished  scholar  and 
orator  is  emphatically  the  child  of  her 
public  schools,  of  which  he  has  so  often 
sung  the  praises-  and  seconded  the  en- 
deavors. He  began  at  three  years  of 
age  with  a  primer  in  his  hand  at  the 
free  village  school  of  Dorchester,  and 
while  quite  a  child  in  that  town,  ap- 
pears to  have  attracted  attention  by 
his  cleverness  and  aptness  at  recitation, 
for  we  find  that  excellent  scholar  and 
most  estimable  man,  the  Eev.  Thaddeus 
Mason  Harris,  writing  a  simple  apo- 
logue expressly  to  be  spoken  at  a  pub- 
lic recitation  by  the  little  orator.  He 
was  next  introduced  to  the  schools  of 
Boston,  where  he  had,  among  other 
preceptors,  Ezekiel  Webster,  the  elder 
brother  of  the  statesman,  and  took  a 
turn  at  the  memorable  old  Latin  school 
then  under  the  rule  of  Master  Bigelow. 
Thence  he  passed  to  the  famous  Exeter 
[Academy  under  the  superintendence 


I 


EDWARD 


EVERETT. 


401 


of  Dr.  ALbott,  to  wliose  long  services 
it  has  been  his  fortune  in  after  life  to 
pay  a  grateful  tribute;  and  after  six 
months'  preparation  at  this  institution, 
entered  Harvard  College  in  1807,  at  the 
early  age  of  thirteen,  the  youngest  mem- 
ber of  his  class.  He  was  noted  as  a  stu- 
dent beyond  the  range  of  his  prescribed 
studies,  and  as  a  chief  contributor  to  a 
college  magazine,  published  by  the  un- 
dergraduates, called  the  "  Harvard  Lyce- 
um." His  accomplished  scholarship  was 
thus  already  felt  and  appreciated  when 
he  graduated  in  due  course  with  the 
highest  honors  of  his  class.  The  topics 
of  his  commencement  and  subsequent 
Master  of  Arts  address,  "Literary  Evils," 
and  the  " Restoration  of  Glreece,"  exhibit 
the  two-fold  tendency  of  his  mind  as  a 
man  of  letters  and  man  of  affairs. 

In  1812,  the  year  after  his  gradua- 
tion, he  became  tutor  in  the  college, 
holding  the  position  till  1814,  mean- 
while increasing  his  reputation  with 
the  public  by  the  delivery  of  a  Phi 
Beta  Kappa  poem  on  "  American 
Poets,"  in  which  he  handled  the  aims 
and  objects,  the  encouragements  and 
discouragements  of  an  embryo  race  of 
'bards,  whose  prospects  were  for  a  long 
time  a  subject  of  discussion.  They 
have  since  entered  the  field  in  a  body, 
proved  their  title  to  respect,  and  their 
claims  are  admitted  as  a  matter  of 
course,  accordins;  to  their  deserts.  Mr. 

I  <_j 

Everett  has  lived  to  see  this  develop- 
ment alike  with  other  branches  of  our 
literature,  and  no  one  deserves  more 
credit  for  supporting  nascent  author- 
ship in  its  infancy  by  his  praises  and 
example,  and  preparing  the  public 
mind  for  its  full    advent.    The  pro- 


phecies of  his  Phi  Beta  Kappa  poem 
of  1812  of  the  coming  time, 

"When  bards  will  spring  beneath  our  native  skies, 

and  the  native  nomenclature  of  woods 
and  mountains  be  subdued  by  the  poet's 
art,  has  been  realized  beyond  his '  con- 
ception. 

A  tutorship  at  Harvard  is  an  excel- 
lent resting-place  to  secure  and  perfect 
previous  study  and  training,  and  look 
out  upon  the  world  for  future  occupa- 
tion in  professionaLlife.  Mr.  Everett's 
first  choice,  we  are  told,  was  the  bar ; 
the  influence  of  his  friend  and  pastor, 
the  amiable  and  all-accomplished 
Joseph  Stephens  Buckminster,  deter- 
mined his  preference  of  divinity.  He 
accordingly,  while  still  a  tutor,  devoted 
himself  to  clerical  studies,  and  was  so 
highly  thought  of  that  on  the  death  of 
his  lamented  adviser  just  named,  he 
was  appointed  his  successor,  in  the 
Brattle  street  Church.  This  was  in 
1813,  before  he  was  twenty.  The  next 
year  gave  birth  to  his  first  prose  publi- 
cation, a  volume  entitled  a  "  Defence  of 
Christianity  against  the  Work  of 
George  B.  English,  entitled  the  Grrounds 
of  Christianity  examined  by  comparing 
the  New  Testament  with  the  Old." 
English  was  a  graduate  of  Harvard,  a 
man  of  some  education  and  various 
accomplishments,  who  became  a  vagrant 
adventurer  of  war  and  diplomacy  in 
Egypt  and  the  Levant.  His  Hebrew 
reading  appears  to  have  turned  his 
head  in  his  earlier  days,  and  it  was  to 
answer  his  vagaries  that  Everett  pub- 
lished his  volume. 

Everett's  pulpit  eloquence  in  Boston, 


402  EDWARD 

and  in  occasional  discourses  of  a  later 
date,  is  remembered  hj  his  friends  witli 
admiration  of  his  powers.  Judge  Story, 
who  heard  him  in  1820,  at  Washing- 
ton, at  the  capitol,  records  in  his  cor- 
respondence his  appreciation  of  his  elo- 
quence and  pathos  as  he  spoke  of  the 
brevity  of  life,  and  "  introduced  beauti- 
ful extracts  from  his  sermon  on  the 
Future  Prospects  of  America,"  while 
an  equally  excellent  authority,  Senator 
Rufus  King,  of  New  York,  who  was 
present,  remarked  "  that  he  had  never 
heard  a  discourse  so  full  of  unction, 
eloquence,  and  good  taste."  ^  It  is  now 
long  since  Mr.  Everett  has  lifted  his 
voice  in  a  pulpit,  at  least  in  his  clerical 
capacity,  but  a  new  generation  of 
listeners  may,  doubtless,  gather  an  ex- 
cellent idea  of  his  old  triumphs  in  this 
field  by  his  skillful  and  eloquent  address 
on  Charity,  which  he  has  of  late  years 
occasionally  delivered,  equally  to  the 
delight  and  improvement  of  his  large 
audiences  and  the  welfare  of  the  bene- 
ficiaries, to  relieve  whose  necessities  he 
has  spoken. 

The  Brattle  street  congregation  in 
1814,  was  enjoying  the  eloquence  of 
the  gifted  young  preacher,  but  Harvard, 
his  alma  mater,  was  not  disposed  to 
relinquish  her  hold  upon  her  favorite 
son.  In  that  year  he  was  chosen  by 
the  Corporation  to  the  post  of  Eliot 
Professor  of  Greek  Literature,  then 
newly  created,  and  according  to  a 
liberal  and  enlightened  provision  of 
the  institution,  equally  beneficial  to  the 
man  and  the  scholar,  was  allowed  time 
for  a  preliminary  course  of  travel  and 


'  Loping"8  Hundred  Boston  Oratoi's,  p.  53  ;. 


EVERETT. 

instruction  in  Europe.  He  accepted 
the  position,  and  in  1815,  left  for  the 
old  world  to  T)tlSS  3>  period  of  four  years 
abroad,  a  new  noviciate  in  the  society 
of  Great  Britain,  the  training  of  Ger- 
man scholarship,  and  an  instructive 
tour  through  the  central  and  southern 
portions  of  the  continent.  He  was  two 
years  at  Gottingen,  where  he  received 
his  Doctorate  in  1817.  He  passed  the 
winters  of  that  and  the  succeeding 
year  in  Paris.  The  next  season  he  was 
in  England  and  Scotland,  making  the 
acquaintance  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Byron, 
Jeffrey,  Mackintosh,  and  other  lights 
of  the  age,  in  politics,  literature,  and 
science.  His  occasional  reminiscences 
of  this  intercourse  in  the  "  Mount  Ver- 
non Papers,"  and  other  publications, 
show  his  appreciation  of  these  oppor- 
tunities, and'  the  extent  of  his  useful 
occupation  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge. 
His  eminent  friendships  were  the  index 
of  his  studies  of  every  liberal  art,  of 
languages,  jurisprudence,  government, 
and  the  myriad  forms  of  literature. 

In  1819,  he  returned  home  after  a 
most  profitable  disposition  of  his  time, 
engaged  in  the  active  duties  of  his  pro- 
fessorship, and  joined  to  them  the 
editorship  of  the  "  North  American 
Review."  The  latter  occupation  gave 
full  scope  to  his  various  attainments  and 
sympathies.  He  brought  with  him  to 
the  work  not  only  a  keen  appreciation 
of  all  foreign  topics,  but  the  most 
ardent  desire  to  establish  the  claims  of 
his  countrymen  before  the  world.  His 
discussion  of  the  merits  and  demerits  of 
British  travellers,  in  America  in  parti- 
cular, exhibited  his  anxiety  to  defend 
the  c("»ant!'y  from  the  injurious  attaclvs 


EDWARD  EVERETT. 


403 


of.  prejudice  and  calumny ;  while  his 
papers  on  art,  science,  education,  foreign 
literature,  showed  him  equally  sensitive 
to  all  tliat  would  improve  and  enlighten 
his  o^vn  land  in  forei2:n  culture.  A 
translation  of  Buttman's  Greek  Gram- 
mar was  another  of  his  literary  labors 
of  this  period.  The  first  of  those  de- 
monstrative addresses  which  have  given 
to  Mr.  Everett"  a  peculiar  rank  in  con- 
temporary oratory,  was  spoken  by  him 
at  Cambridge,  before  the  Phi  Beta  Kap- 
pa Society,  in  1824.  His  subject  was 
one  to  which  he  had  given  considerable 
thought,  the  "  Circumstances  favorable 
to  the  Progress  of  Literature  in  Ame- 
rica." 

The  year  in  which  this  address  was 
delivered  introduced  Mr.  Everett  to 
public  life  as  a  member  of  Congress 
from  Middlesex,  a  new  sphere  of  duty 
which  brought  to  a  close  his  career  as 
a  professor.  He  held  his  position  in 
the  House  of  Kepresentatives  for  ten 
years,  by  successive  reelections,  being 
during  the  entire  period  a  member  of  the 
Committee  for  Foreign  Affairs,  and  for 
two  sessions  its  chairman.  His  reports 
on  the  Panama  Mission,  and  the  contro- 
versy with  France,  are  remembered 
among  his  labors  of  the  department, 
which  were  various  and  important. 
His  speeches  were  prepared  with  care 
and  were  noted  not  less  for  their  in- 
dustry than  their  elegant  propriety. 
From  Congress  Mr.  Everett  was  taken, 
in  1834,  to  fill  the  ofiB.ce  of  Governor 
of  Massachusetts,  and  was  continued 
in  this  relation  by  annual  elections  for 
four  years.  He  would  have  remained 
a  fifth  had  he  not  been  defeated  by  a 
single  vote,  the  majority  of  his  oppo- 


nent, Marcus  Morton.  This  period  of 
his  ofiicial  life  was  marked  by  a  con- 
siderable development  of  the  resources 
of  his  native  State,  especially  in  the 
departments  of  education  and  agricul- 
tural surveys  and  law  reform — matters 
in  all  of  which  his  influence  and  ex- 
ertions were  prominent.  The  public 
orations  and  addresses  delivered  by 
him  during  his  career  as  Governor, 
show  his  readiness  to  serve  the  public 
outside  the  range  of  his  peculiar  duties. 
Some  of  his  best  educational  cliscources 
were  pronounced  at  this  time. 

On  his  release  from  the  office  of 
Governor  in  1839,  he  made  prepara- 
tions for  a  visit  to  Europe  with  his 
family — he  had  married  in  1832,  the 
daughter  of  the  Hon.  Peter  C.  Brooks, 
a  wealthy  merchant  of  Boston — and 
sailed  the  following  3^ear.  He  had 
passed  one  winter  in  Italy,  and  was 
meditating  a  sojourn  in  the  same  region 
during  another,  when  he  was  called  by 
the  new  administration  at  home,  to  the 
mission  to  England.  He  entered  upon 
these  duties  in  1841,  and  bore  a  dis- 
tinguished part  in  the  complicated 
discussions  respecting  the  north-eastern 
boundary,  the  Canadian  difficulties,  and 
other  vexed  questions  threatening  to 
disturb  the  peace  of  the  two  countries. 
There  were  various  changes  in  the 
foreign  department  at  home,  but  Mr. 
Everett  continued  to  represent  the 
country  at  London  till  1845.  On  his 
return  to  America  at  this  date,  he  was 
chosen  President  of  Harvard  College, 
filling  the  interval  of  three  years  in  the 
government  of  that  institution,  between 
Josiah  Quincy  and  Jared  Sparks,  who 
was  his  successor  in  1849, 


404  EDWARD 

Mr.  Everett  now  availed  himself  of 
tlie  opportunity  of  an  interval  of  leisure 
to  revise  and  edit  a  collection  of  liis 
orations  and  speeches.  A  single  volume 
of  the  kind  had  been  published  in 
1836  ;  it  was  now,  with  the  subsequent 
productions  of  the  author,  submitted 
to  careful  criticism.  The  collection  in- 
cludes eighty-one  separate  orations, 
speeches,  addresses,  varying  from  the 
brief  dinner  remarks  or  response  to  a 
sentiment,  to  the  elaborate  discussion 
of  a  political  or  scientific  theme  on  an 
anniversary  or  State  occasion.  There 
are  the  opening  Phi  Beta  Kappa  ad- 
dress on  Literature ;  numerous  papers 
on  American  history,  "  The  Settlement 
of  Massachusetts,"  "  The  Seven  Years' 
War  the  School  of  the  Revolution," 
"Anecdotes  of  Early  Local  History," 
"  The  First  Battles  of  the  Revolutionary 
War,"  and  the  like,  showing  that  if  the 
orator  had  not  chosen  to  be  a  statesman 
he  miffht  have  been  the  historian  of  his 
country ;  a  separate  series  of  semi-scien- 
tific papers  addressed  to  working  men 
and  agriculturists ;  earnest  and  afifec- 
tionate  advocacy  of  educational  and 
intellectual  advantages ;  eloquent  eulo- 
gies on  Lafayette,  Bowditch,  Lowell, 
John  Quincy  Adams.  There  is  hardly 
a  topic  arising  out  of  these  various 
themes  which  he  has  not  touched  upon  ; 
he  has  touched  on  none  which  he  has 
not  adorned. 

Mr.  Everett's  next  official  duty  was 
as  Secretary  of  State  under  President 
Fillmore,  in  1852,  on  the  death  of  his 
friend  Daniel  Webster — a  short  period 
of  service  distinguished  by  several 
foreign  negotiations  of  importance, 
especially  the  consideration  of  the  tri- 


EVERETT, 

partite  convention  ^ith  England  and 
France,  guaranteeing  to  Spain  the  per- 
manent possession  of  Caba.  He  pre- 
pared the  state  paper  on  this  occasion, 
declining  the  proposition.  In  the  ses- 
sion succeeding  his  appointment  to  the 
Secretaryship,  having  in  the  mean  time, 
been  elected  by  the  I^egislature  of 
Massachusetts,  he  took  his  seat  in 
the  Senate  of  the  United  States.  On 
the  next  meeting  of  that  body  in  De- 
cember, he  found  his  health  seriously 
affected,  but  continued  through  the  la- 
bors of  an  exhausting  session,  follow- 
ing the  debates  on  the  Nebraska  Kansas 
bill,  till  he  was  compelled  in  May  to 
resign  his  seat  by  the  command  of  his 
physician. 

It  was  not,  however,  in  the  nature 
of  Mr.  Everett  to  be  idle,  though  look- 
ing to  his  fortune,  education,  and  tastes, 
the  charms  of  his  ample  library  and  the 
sources  of  his  distinguished  friendships ; 
above  all,  'to  his  successful  achievements 
in  various  departments  of  noble  ex- 
ertion, there  are  few  men,  we  should 
say,  to  whom  the  luxury  of  learned  re- 
pose would  be  more  attractive,  as  there 
are  few  who  could  more  honorably 
claim  its  enjoyment.  This,  however,  is 
not  the  plea  or  the  indulgence  of  Mr. 
Everett,  whose  private  life,  within  the 
last  few  years,  has  introduced  him  to  a 
new  field  of  labors  altogether  unique, 
in  the  annals  of  literature  and  elo- 
quence. The  part  borne  by  him  in  the 
purchase  of  Mount  Vernon,  the  home 
of  Washington,  to  be  held  as  a  perpe- 
tual gift  to  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  and  most  endearing  monument 
of  the  Father  of  his  Country,  is  fami- 
liarly known  to  the  public  in  its  man- 


\ 


EDWARD  EVERETT. 


405 


ner  and  results,  as  its  extraordinary 
details  will  remain  a  subject  of  admira- 
tion for  posterity.  Within  a  period  of 
three  years,  from  the  twenty-second  of 
February,  1856,  the  date  of  the  first 
delivery  of  Mr.  Everett's  Oration  on 
Washington,  he  repeated  this  com- 
position to  large  audiences  in  various 
portions  of  the  country,  no  less  than 
one  hundred  and  nineteen  times,  pro- 
ducing for  the  fnnd  the  important  sum 
of  nearly  fifty-seven  thousand  dollars. 

The  circumstances  which  led  to  this 
undertaking  were  somewhat  accidental, 
the  oration  delivered  by  Mr.  Everett 
not  having  been  prepared  originally 
for  this  object.  In  the  autumn  of  1855, 
he  was  invited  by  the  Boston  Mercantile 
Library  Association  to  deliver  a  lecture 
in  their  approaching  course.  Having 
accepted  the  invitation,  and  thinking 
the  several  visits  of  Washington  to 
Boston  a  striking  and  appropriate  sub- 
ject, he  proposed  the  theme  to  himself 
for  an  address  before  the  society  on  the 
twenty-second  of  February,  with  the 
understanding  that  the  proceeds  of  the 
delivery  were  to  be  applied  to  some  com- 
memorative piirpose ;  and  they  were 
actually  thus  applied  to  the  purchase 
of  a  copy  for  the  Institution,  of  Stuart's 
full  length  portrait  of  Washington  at 
Newport.  In  the  meantime  a  second 
application  for  an  address  reached  Mr. 
Everett  from  a  society  in  Richmond, 
Virginia.  He  replied  that  he  would 
repeat  the  Washington  address  before 
■them  for  the  benefit  of  the  "  Ladies' 
Mount  Vernon  Association,"  the  con- 
stitution and  plan  of  which  had  just 
attracted  his  attention  in  the  "  National 
Intelligencer."  This  was  a  society 
II. — 51 


which  had  grown  out  of  a  suggestion 
for  the  purchase  of  Mount  Vernon  by 
private  subscription  made  by  Miss  Ann 
Pamela  Cunningham,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, in  1853,  a  lady  who  enforced  her 
views  in  an  address  to  her  countrymen 
widely  circulated  in  the  newspapers, 
signed  "A  Southern  Matron."  Mr. 
Everett's,  offer  was,  of  course  accepted, 
and  in  this  way  the  repetition  of  his 
discourse  began. 

It  has  constantly  been  a  source  of  de- 
light to  the  public  to  hear  Mr.  Everett. 
His  reputation  as  Tin  orator,  his  grace- 
ful action,  the  charm  of  his  glowing 
eloquence,  the  interest  of  his  subject 
matter,  the  skill  with  which  he  ever 
blends  the  useful  and  agreeable  have 
always  found  attention,  and  when  it 
was  found  that  he  might  be  secured 
at  call — for  the  sake  of  the  patriotic 
object  on  which  he  was  bent — applica- 
tions came  to  him  from  all  parts  of  the 
country.    At  first  he  did  not  entertain 
the  idea  of  any  very  extensive  delivery 
of  the  oration  and  did  not  stipulate  for 
the  precise  appropriation  of  the  funds 
collected,  which  he  afterwards  made  a 
requisite.    In  every  case,  however,  they 
were  bestowed  upon  some  public  ob- 
ject.   Finding  the  matter  grow  upon 
his  hands,  he  gave  up  his  tim^  and  at- 
tention to  the  work,  and,  with  the  zeal 
and  labor  of  a  neophyte  making  his 
private  fortune  in  a  prosperous  run  of 
luck,  organized  journeys  at  different 
times,  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  crossing 
and  recrossing  the  highways  of  the 
country  by  sea  and  land,  on  more  than 
one  occasion  being  called  upon  to  re- 
peat the  lecture  on  the  same  spot.  It 
has  thus  been  four  times  delivered  at 


406  EDWARD 

New  York  and  Pliiladelpliia  to  unfail- 
ing audiences.^ 

The  Address  itself  is  marked  by 
many  of  the  most  attractive  qualities 
of  Mr.  Everett's  style.  It  abounds 
with  the  orator's  favorite  rhetorical 
amplifications  of  fact  and  reasoning,  is 
eminently  picturesque,  and,  indeed, 
owes  much  of  its  charm  to  a  series  of 
brilliant  historical  tableaux,  in  the  pre- 
sentation of  which  no  one  has  ever  ex- 
celled the  orator.  The  comparison  of 
Washington,  to  several  of  the  great 
generals  of  antiquity  and  of  modern 
times,  including  a  withering  sketch  of 
Marlborough,  bringing  off  Washington 
the  moral  victor  by  the  symmetry  of 
his  character,  constitutes,  perhaps,  the 
happiest  portion  of  the  address. 

In  addition  to  this  oratorical  labor, 
Mr.  Everett  imposed  upon  himself  the 
onerous  obligation  of  writing  fifty-two 
consecutive  essays  for  a  weekly  mis- 
cellaneous newspaper,  the  "  New  York 
Ledger,"  for  the  express  purpose  of 
adding  the  considerable  sum  of  ten 
thousand  dollars  to  the  fund.  The 
money  was  paid  in  advance  by  the  pub- 
lisher,  and  contributed  to  that  object, 
Mr.  Everett  never  failing  to  produce 
his  stated  quota  of  manuscript  for  his 
"Mount  Vernon  Papers,"  as  he  entitled 
them,  till  the  whole  were  finished.  They 
consist  of  sketches  of  different  portions 
of  Washington's  life,  of  historical  and 
other  essays,  and  largely  of  reminis- 
cences of  European  travel,  and  inter- 


'  An  eiir.meration  of  various  interesting  facts  connected 
with  the  delivery  of  this  Washington  Discourse,  by  Mr. 
Everett,  will  be  found  in  his  remarks  on  the  subject  be- 
fore the  Massachusetts'  Historical  Society,  published  in  tlie 
Proceedings  of  that  body  for  Jnno,  IS.'i-'. 


EVERETT. 

course  ^vith  eminent  foreign  authors  and 
statesmen.  All  are  written  with  the 
accomplished  orator's  accustomed  ease 
and  interesting  statement  of  facts ;  Mr. 
Everett  never  speaking  or  writing  with- 
out a  useful  object,  and  enforcing  it 
upon  the  attention  by  some  valuable 
circumstance  or  anecdote. 

While  these  various  labors,  too,  have 
been  in  progress,  Mr.  Everett  has  de- 
livered other  discourses  for  public  ob- 
jects, including  an  "  Address  on  Charity 
and  Charitable  Institutions,"  already 
alluded  to,  the  delivery  of  which  on 
sixteen  occasions,  has  produced  thirteen 
thousand  five  hundred  dollars  for  bene- 
volent purposes ;  while  an  oration  on 
the  "  Early  days  of  Franklin "  has 
reaped  a  similar  harvest  of  bounty.  In 
about  three  years  the  sum  total  real- 
ized for  charitable  and  patriotic  objects, 
from  the  addresses  delivered  by  Mr. 
Everett,  reached  the  enormous  sum  of 
ninety  thousand  dollars.  Was  ever  be- 
fore such  a  sum  of  money  earned  with 
so  much  of  benefit  and  pleasure  to  the 
public,  and  delivered  to  them  again  in 
the  creation  of  such  lasting  and  wel- 
come means  of  instruction  and  enjoy- 
ment ?  Trees  will  rise  and  grass  will 
grow  as  generations  to  come  will  visit 
the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  grateful  to 
Mr.  Everett  for  their  patriotic  satisfac- 
tion, and  his  honeyed  eloquence  will 
still  whisper  in  the  breezes  which  blow 
over  the  hallowed  spot.  How  many 
volumes,  too,  sources  of  perennial  de- 
light, has  he  summoned  by  his  words  to 
the  shelves  of  public  libraries  in  our 
large  cities ;  how  much  suffering  has 
been  relieved  by  his  charitable  appeals ! 
Few  scholars,  few  statesmen,  have  the 


EDWARD  EVERETT. 


407 


privilege  of  pointing  to  sucli  beneficent 
employment  of  their  leisure. 

The  issue  of  a  third  volume  of  his 
collected  orations  and  speeches  (in 
1S59)  has  been  among  the  employ- 
ments of  Mr.  Everett's  later  years.  Its 
foi'ty-three  somewhat  miscellaneous  pa- 
pers show  no  abatement  but  rather  an 
increase  of  the  powers  of  their  prede- 
cessors. There  is  the  same  devotion  to 
American  history,  to  education,  the 
academy,  and  the  public  school,  to  the 
interests  of  the  mechanic  and  of  the 
farmer,  the  same  careful  and  exalted 
eulogy  of  departed  greatness — exhibit- 
ing the  orator  ever  ready  to  respond  to 
any  worthy  appeal  which  comes  to 
him  feathered  with  the  claims  of  patri- 
otism, literature,  and  benevolence. 

The  year  1860  opened  a  new  period 
of  Mr.  Everett's  life,  in  the  political 
crisis  terminating  in  the  ascendancy  of 
the  Republican  party.  In  the  Presi- 
dential election  of  that  year  he  was 
put  forward  as  a  candidate  for  Vice- 


President  on  the  Ticket  with  Mr.  Bell, 
of  Tennessee,  as  the  representative  of  a 
certain  moderate  national  conservatism. 
Success  in  the  struggle  with  three  well- 
marked  political  organizations,  repre- 
sented by  Lincoln,  Breckinridge,  and 
Douglas,  was  not  to  be  anticipated  ;  nor 
did  Mr.  Everett  look  for  any  different 
result. 

Having  in  the  course  of  his  political 
career  exerted  his  endeavors  to  preserve 
peace  to  his  country — when  Avn.r  was 
forced  npon  it,  he  accepted  the  issue 
with  equanimity,  and  devoted  his  l)est 
powers  to  support  the  nation  in  its  day 
of  trial.  On  more  than  one  occasion,  to 
public  assemblies  and  to  gathering  of 
troops  for  the  field,  has  he  spoken  to 
assure  the  hopes  of  the  citizen  and  ani- 
mate the  courage  of  the  soldier.  His 
address  in  particular,  delivered  at  the 
Academy  of  Music,  New  Yoi-k,  on  the 
4th  of  July,  1861,  presents  a  masterly 
picture  of  the  origin  and  true  nature 
of  the  war. 


GEORGE    BRINTON  McCLELLAN. 


Major-Genekal  McClellan,  of  the 
United  States  Army,  was  born  in  Pliila- 
delpliia,  Pa.,  December  3,  1826.  His 
father,  as  the  name  indicates,  of 
Scottish  descent,  of  a  family  originally 
settled  in  New  England,  was  an  emi- 
nent physician  and  surgeon  of  that 
city,  distinguished,  it  is  said,  alike 
by  the  boldness  and  skill  of  his  ope- 
rations. Having  pursued  his  studies 
at  the  University  of  Pennsylvania, 
the  son,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  en- 
tered the  West  Point  Military  Aca- 
demy, whence  he  graduated  with  high 
honor,  second  of  his  class,  in  1846,  and 
was  appointed  second-lieutenant  of  en- 
gineers. It  was  the  period  of  the  war 
with  Mexico,  whither  he  was  imme- 
diately ordered  on  duty,  as  lieutenant 
of  a  newly-organized  company  of  sap- 
pers, miners,  and  pontoon  constructors, 
which  he  had  assisted  in  drilling  at 
West  Point.  Joining  the  column  of 
General  Taylor  on  the  Rio  Grande,  the 
company  was  presently  sent,  by  way 
of  Tampico,  to  Vera  Cruz,  where  it 
bore  a  prominent  part  in  the  siege  of 
that  city,  the  active  duties  of  the  com- 
mand, in  consequence  of  the  illness  of 
the^  captain,  falling  upon  Lieutenant 
Gustavus  W.  Smith  and  his  associate, 
McClellan.  The  company  was  equally 
efficient  in  the  advance  toward  the 

408 


capital,  as  the  reports  of  Colonel  Totten^ 
General  Twiggs,  and  other  officers  bear 
ample  testimony.    For  his  gallant  and 
meritorious  conduct  at  the  battles  of 
Contreras  and  Cherubusco,  McClellan 
was  brevetted  first-lieutenant,  and  cap- 
tain for  like  services  at  Molino  del  Rey. 
He  declined  the  latter  at  the  time ;  but 
his  claim  to  promotion  was  renewed  by 
his  distinguished  services  at  Chapul- 
tepee,  which  gained  for  him  a  special 
tribute  of  honor  in  a  despatch  of  Gene- 
ral Scott,  in  which  he  was  commended 
with  his  fellow-engineer  officer  and 
future  competitor  on  a  very  different 
field.  Lieutenant  Beauregard.    He  now 
received  the  rank  of  captain,  presently 
took  command  of  his  company,  and, 
the  war  being  ended,  returned  to  West 
Point,  where  he  was  engaged  as  cap- 
tain of  field  labors  and  instructor  of  the 
bayonet  exercise.    In  connection  with 
these  duties,  he  translated  from  the 
French  a  "Manual  of  Bayonet  Exer- 
cise," which  was  adopted  for  use  in  the 
army.    In  the  summer  and  autumn  of 
1851,  he  was  employed  in  superintend- 
ing the  construction  of  Fort  Delaware, 
and  in  the  spring  of  the  following  year 
accompanied   Captain  Marcy,  whose 
daughter  he  subsequently  married,  in 
an.  exploring  expedition  to  the  Red 
River.    He   was  thence   ordered  as 


I 


Johnson  Jiy  &  Co.  'i^iblisherB.  UevrYai-lc 


GEORGE   BRINTON  McCLELLAN. 


409 


senior  engineer  on  the  staif  of  General 
Persifer  F.  Smith,  to  a  survey  of  the 
rivers  and  harbors  of  Texas.  Pie  was 
next  engaged,  in  1853,  under  command 
of  Governor  Stevens  of  "Washington 
Territory,  in  the  survey  of  the  North 
Pacific  Railway,  route,  the  results  of 
which  were  pronounced  by  the  Secre- 
tary of  War,  Jefferson  Davis,  "  highly 
creditable  to  his  capacity  and  re- 
sources," His  report  was  published  in 
a  cpiarto  volume  by  the  Government, 
the  first  in  the  series  of  the  Pacific 
Puiilroad  Surveys.  After  further  em- 
])loyment  as  an  engineer  in  preliminary 
iiivestigations  relating  to  the  railway 
t>  ■■  the  Pacific  and  the  performance  of  a 
secret  Government  mission  to  the  West 
Indies,  having  now  attained  the  full 
rank  of  captain  in  the  first  cavalry,  he 
was,  in  1855,  commissioned  by  the 
Secretary  of  War,  Jefferson  Davis,  in 
company  with  Colonel  Delafield  and 
Major  Mordecai,  "to  visit  Europe  for 
the  purpose  of  obtaining  information  in 
regard  to  the  military  service  in  general, 
and  especially  the  practical  working  of 
the  changes  which  have  been  intro- 
duced of  late  years  into  the  military 
systems  of  the  principal  nations  of 
Europe."*  The  report  of  Captain 
McClellan's  survey,  including  a  series 
of  observations  in  the  Crimea,  was 
published  by  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment on  his  return,  in  an  elaborate 
quarto  volume  on  the  "  Organization 
of  European  Armies  and  the  Conduct 
of  the  War."  The  edition  of  this  work 
issued  by  Congress  being  soon  ex- 
hausted, it  was  republished  by  the 

'  Order  of  Jefferson  Davis,  Secretary  of  War,  Washing- 
ton, April  2,  1865. 


author  in  Philadelphia,  in  1861,  with 
the  title  "  The  Armies  of  Europe,  com- 
prising Descriptions  in  detail  of  the 
Military  Systems  of  England,  France, 
Russia,  Prussia,  Austria,  and  Sardinia." 

Having  resigned  his  commission  in 
the  army,  in  1857,  Captain  McClellan 
was  for  three  years  employed  as  Vice- 
President  .and  Engineer  of  the  Illinois 
and  Central  Railroad,  when  he  became 
General  Superintendent,  and  shortly 
after  President  of  the  Ohio  and  Missis- 
sippi Railroad.  The  outbreak  of  the 
Rebellion  found  him  in  the  discharge 
of  the  duties  of  this  office,  from  which 
he  was  called  by  the  Governor  of  Ohio, 
to  organize  the  volunteer  forces  of  that 
State,  with  the  rank-  of  major-general. 
He  was  presently.  May  14th,  1861, 
appointed  a  major-general  of  the  Regu- 
lar Army,  and  placed  in  command  of 
the  Department  of  the  Ohio,  comprising 
all  of  the  States  of  Illinois,  Indiana,  and 
Ohio,  and  that  part  of  Virginia  north  of 
the  Great  Kenawha  River,  and  west  of 
the  Green  Brier  River  and  the  Maryland 
line,  with  part  of  Pennsylvania.  Rapidly 
organising  his  forces  at  his  head-quar- 
ters at  Cincinnati,  General  McClellan 
crossed  the  Ohio  in  June,  and  after  a 
series  of  preliminary  movements,  canie 
up  with  the  main  army  of  the  enemy 
in  Western  Virginia,  under  Colonel 
Pegram,  at  Rich  Mountain,  a  spur  of 
the  AUeghanies,  in  Randolph  County. 
General  Rosecrans  was  sent  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route  to  flank  the  enemy  in 
their  position,  while  General  McClellan 
was  ready  to  attack  them  in  front. 
The  former  movement  was  entirely  suc- 
cessful. One  portion  of  the  rebel  army 
surrendered  at  once;   the  remainder 


410 


GEORGE   BRINTON  McCLELLAjST. 


Avas  utterly  routed  on  its  retreat.  This 
engagement,  brilliantly  closing  a  short 
campaign,  took  place  on  the  11th  of 
July.  Ten  clays  after  occurred  the  dis- 
aster to  the  Union  forces  at  Bull  Run, 
when  General  McClellan,on  the  instant, 
was  called  to  Washington  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

He  was  now  for  three  months  em- 
ployed in  organizing  and  rendering 
effective  the  forces  suddenly  called  into 
the  field,  Avhen,  on  the  1st  of  Novem- 
ber, on  the  retirement  of  General  Scott, 
from  advanced  age  and  infirmities,  he 
became  Ms  successor  as  General-in- 
Chief  In  this  capacity  he  passed  the 
following  winter  completing  the  de- 
fences of  Washington,  accumulating 
military  supplies,  especially  of  artillery, 
and  preparing  his  force,  now  swelled  to 
the  largest  army  ever  gathei'ed  on  tlie 
continent,  for  a  decisive  movement  in 
tlie  spring.  The  long  expected  advance 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  against 
the  enemy  before  Washington,  was 
made  at  the  beginning  of  March,  1862, 
when  the  Confederates  retreated  from 
the  line  of  Bull  Run  and  Manassas,  in 
the  direction  of  Richmond.  It  had 
been  General  McClellan's  design,  by  a 
sudden  transfer  of  his  forces  to  the 
Yorktown  peninsula,  to  anticipate  this 
movement  for  the  defence  of  the  Con- 
federate capital,  for  the  capture  of 
whicli  there  had  been  a  steady  outcry 
from  the  beginning  of  the  war.  He 
now,  therefore,  embarked  the  main 
portion  of  his  army  at  Alexandria, 
landed  in  the  vicinity  of  Fortress  Mon- 
roe, and  proceeded  to  the  siege  of 
Yorktown,  where  tke  enemy  were 
found  to  be  in  force,  and  well  fortified. 


The  gathering  of  his  army  and  the  en- 
gineering operations  before  this  place 
occupied  a  month,  when,  on  the  eve 
of  opening  his  batteries,  the  enemy, 
duly  impressed  by  the  means  at  his 
command,  on  the  night  of  May  3d, 
evacuated  the  elaborate  series  of  works 
which  they  had  constructed.  The 
town  was  taken  possession  of,  and  the 
army,  after  driving  the  enemy  from 
their  fortified  lines  at  Williamsburgh, 
and  meetino;  them  in  the  nei2:hborhood 
of  West  Point,  on  the  York  River, 
advanced  from  the  latter  position, 
whence  its  supplies  were  drawn,  to  the 
Chicahominy  River,  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  Richmond.  There,  on  the 
last  day  of  the  month,  was  fought  the 
battle  of  Seven  Pines.  The  Union 
forces  were  overpowered  by  superior 
numbers,  but  repulsed  the  enemy  in  the 
renewal  of  the  eno-as-ement  the  next 
day,  at  Fair  Oaks.  The  Union  army 
having  suffered  severe  loss  from  its  un- 
wholesome position,  the  severity  of  the 
climate,  and  the  hardships  of  the  cam- 
paign, and  its  communications  being, 
moreover,  in  danger,  General  McClellan 
resolved  upon  the  withdrawal  of  his 
forces  to  a  new  base  of  operations  on 
the  James  River.  On  the  24th  of  June, 
the  evacuation  of  White  House  was 
commenced,  and  from  that  day  to  the 
1st  of  July,  were  fought  a  series  of  des- 
perate battles  on  both  banks  of  the 
Chickahominy,  and  on  the  line  of  re- 
treat through  the  White  Oak  Swamp, 
ending  with  a  decided  victory  for  the 
Union  forces  at  the  battle  of  Malvern 
Hill,  near  the  James  River. 

General  McClellan  now  called  for  re- 
inforcements to  continue  the  campaign 


GEORGE  BRINTON  McCLELLAJ^. 


411 


before  Klclimoucl,  but  the  safety  of  tlie 
caj)ital,  in  the  judgmeut  of  the  President 
and  General  Halleck,  the  new  General- 
in-Chief,  requii^ed  the  presence  of  the 
army  in  Virginia  to  swell  the  forces  of 
General  Pope,  who  was  now  holding  the 
line  of  the  Rappahannock.    The  Army 
of  the  Potomac  was  accordingly  with- 
drawn from  the  Peninsula  to  Acqtiia 
Creek,  and  a  considerable  portion  of  it 
was  engaged  in  the  series  of  battles 
covering  the  retreat  of  General  Pope 
to  the  fortifications  of  Washins^ton,  of 
which  General  McClellan  was  j^laced  in 
command.    On  the  immediate  transfer 
of  General  Pope  to  another  department, 
General  McClellan  was  restored  to  the 
command  of  his  old  army,  with  which 
he  presently,  in  September,  advanced 
to  meet  the  Confederate  General,  Lee, 
who  had  now  crossed  the  Potomac  in 
his  determined  invasion  of  Maryland. 
Driving  the  enemy  from  Frederick, 
General  McClellan  came  up  with  their 
forces  at  the  South  Mountain,  on  the 
fourteenth,  defeated  them  in  a  double 
attack,  and  pushing  on,  brought  them 


to  a  decisive  action,  on  the  sixteenth 
and   seventeenth,  on   the   banks  of 
Antietam   Creek.    The   enemy  were 
defeated  with  heavy  loss,  and  hastily 
retreating  to   the   Potomac,  crossed 
the  river  into  Virginia.    Thus  ended 
Lee's  first  invasion  of  Maryland.  Gene- 
ral  McClellan   now  remained  for  a 
few  weeks-  in  Maryland,  when,  in  Oc- 
tober, he  again  took  the  field  in  pur- 
suit of  the  enemy.    Advancing-  from 
Harper's  Ferry  along  the  eastern  side 
of  the  Blue  Ridge,  he  had  reached  the 
vicinity  of  Warrenton  with  the  bulk 
of  his  army,  when,  on  the  Tth  of  No- 
vember, he  was  relieved  of  the  com- 
mand of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
Taking  leave  of  his  troops  in  a  farewell 
address,  in  which  he  expressed  a  warm 
affection  for  "the  army  which  had 
grown  up  under  his  care,  and  in  which 
he  had  never  found  doubt  or  coldness," 
he  proceeded  to  the  North,  and  has 
since — ^up  to  the  present  time,  August, 
1863 — mainly  resided,  without  being 
called  to  active  service,  at  his  new 
home  in  the  city  of  New  York. 


HENRY  WAGER  HALLECK. 


Majoe-Geiteral  Halleck,  of  the 
United  States  Army,  General-in-cMef 
of  the  national  forces  in  the  War  for 
tlie  Union,  was  Iborn  in  Westernville,  a 
town  on  the  Mohawk  River,  nearUtica, 
in  Oneida  County,  New  York,  in  the 
year  1816.  On  the  paternal  side,  he  is 
descended  from  Peter  Halleck,  of  Long 
Island;  and  on  the  maternal,  from 
Plenry  Wager,  an  intimate  friend  of 
Baron  Steuben,  and  one  of  the  early 
settlers  of  central  New  York.  After 
the  usual  academy  instruction,  and  pur- 
suing his  studies  for  a  while  in  Union 
College,  Schenectady,  at  the  age  of  nine- 
teen, he  entered  the  Military  Academy 
at  West  Point,  where  he  occupied  a 
distinguished  position,  graduating  in 
1839,  third  in  a  class  of  thirty-one,  and 
receiving  the  appointment  of  second- 
lieutenant  in  the  engineer  corps.  He 
was,  for  the  ensuing  year,  assistant  pro- 
fessor of  engineering  at  the  Academy. 
In  1840-4,  he  was  a  member  of  the 
Board  of  Engineers  at  Washington,  and 
for  the  two  succeeding  years  was  en- 
gaged as  assistant  engineer  on  the  forti- 
fications in  New  York  harbor.  His 
pen  was  employed  meanwhile  in  the 
preparation  of  a  treatise  on  "  Bitumen," 
published  in  1841,  particularly  with 
reference  to  its  employment  in  the  con- 
struction of  casemates  and  the  masonry 

412 


of  forts  ;  and  in  an  elaborate  report  on 
the  means  of  National  Defence,  which 
he  submitted  to  the  War  Department 
in  1843,  and  which  was  called  for  and 
published  by  the  Senate. 

In  1844,  Lieutenant  Halleck  visited 
Europe  with  the  object  of  adding  to  his 
knowledge  of  his  profession  by  study 
of  the  military  establishments  of  the 
old  world,  and.  with  their  usual  cour- 
tesy, was  aided  in  his  observations  by 
eminent  French  engineers.  In  Janu- 
ary, 1845,  ^e  was  promoted  to  a  first- 
lieutenancy  in  the  engineer  corps,  and 
in  the  winter  of  1845-6  was  engaged  in 
the  delivery  of  a  series  of  lectures  upon 
the  Science  of  War,  before  the  Lowell 
Institute  of  Boston,  the  substance  of 
which  was  embodied  in  a  comprehen- 
sive work,  which  he  published  the  fol- 
lowing season,  on  "  The  Elements  of 
Military  Art  and  Science ;  or,  a  Course 
of  Instruction  in  Strategy,  Fortifica- 
tions, Tactics  of  Battles,  etc. ;  embrac- 
ing the  Duties  of  Staff,  Infantry,  Ca- 
valry, Artillery,  and  Engineers.  Adapt- 
ed to  the  use  of  Volunteers  and  Mili- 
tia." In  an  introductory  chapter,  the 
author,  vindicating  the  claims  and  ne- 
cessities of  patriotism  and  the  laws  for 
the  preservation  of  States,  discusses  the 
question  of  the  "  Justifiableness  of 
War,"  in  reference  to  certain  positions 


Zzkeness  frcTn-  a,_  recast  Pkot^^arcipA  /rvni  hfe 

Jclinson  Fit  t  Co  Pnlilisliers,  New  ^oi  k 


7 


1 1 


HENRY  WAGER  IIALLECK. 


413 


taken  by  the  Kev.  Dr.  Wayland,  in  Lis 
treatise  on  "  Moral  Philosophy,"  on  the 
side  of  non-resistance.  "No  preten- 
sion," says  the  author  in  his  preface  to 
this  useful  and  interesting  volume,  "  is 
made  to  originality  in  any  part  of  the 
work ;  the  sole  object  having  been  to 
embody,  in  a  small  compass,  well  esta- 
blished military  principles,  and  to  illus- 
trate these  by  reference  to  the  events 
of  past  history,  and  the  opinions  and 
practice  of  the  best  generals." 

On  the  opening  of  the  Mexican  War, 
Lieutenant  Halleck  was  ordered  to  Ca- 
lifornia, where  he  arrived,  by  the  way 
of  Cape  Horn,  at  Monterey,  in  January, 
1^  4:1,  when  he  was  at  once  employed 
in  erecting  defences  for  that  harbor  and 
other  points  of  the  coast.  His  admin- 
istrative abilities  were  not  neglected 
by  General  Kearney,  then  in  command 
of  the  United  States  forces  in  the  re- 
gion, and  he  was  by  him,  in  the  ensu- 
ing August,  appointed  Secretary  of 
State  in  the  mixed  civil  and  military 
government  which  then  prevailed.  He 
continued  to  hold  this  position  under 
the  administrations  of  Generals  Mason 
and  Riley  to  the  close  of  the  year  1849. 
While  discharging  this  duty,  and  that 
of  engineer,  he  was  also  for  a  time  aid- 
de-camp  to  Commodore  Shubrick  in 
many  of  the  naval  and  military  opera- 
tions of  that  season,  at  Mazatlan  and 
elsewhere.  He  took  part  in  the  actions 
of  Palos  Prietos  and  Urias,  Nov.  19th 
and  20th,  184*7,  for  his  gallantry  in 
which,  and  other  services  in  California, 
he  was  brevetted  captain ;  and  was  also, 
in  the  following  spring,  engaged  in  the 
actions  of  San  Antonio  and  Todos  San- 
tos. ' 
n.— 52 


The  civil  duties  which  he  had  per- 
formed in  connection  with  the  military 
conquest  of  California,  naturally  caused 
Captain  Halleck  to  be  invited,  when 
the  war  was  ended,  to  a  prominent 
part  in  the  organization  of  the  new 
State.  He  became  a  member,  in  1849, 
of  the  convention  called  to  form  a  State 
Constitution,  the  draft  of  which  was 
entrusted  to  his  hands,  and  the  instru- 
ment mainly  prepared  by  him.  From 
1850  to  1854  he  was  Light-House  In- 
spector and  Engineer  and  member  of 
the  Board  of  Engineers  for  Fortifica- 
tions on  the  Pacific.  In  August  of  the 
latter  year,  "  finding  the  routine  of  mili- 
tary duty  in  time  of  peace  insufficient 
to  employ  his  active-  mind,  promotion 
slow,  and  pay  entirely  inadequte  to  his 
support,"  he  resigned  his  commission  to 
engage  in  the  pursuits  of  civil  life  in 
California,  for  which  his  education  and 
habits  of  mind  peculiarly  qualified  him. 
He  was,  in  1855,  President  of  the  Pa- 
cific and  Atlantic  Railroad  from  San 
Francisco  to  San  Jose,  and  soon  became 
known  as  a  lawyer,  in  which  profe^ssion 
he  was  actively  employed,  his  acquaint- 
ance with  the  peculiarities  of  Spanish 
and  Mexican  law  causing  him  to  be 
much  consulted.  In  1859,  he  published 
a  "  Collection  of  Mining  Laws  of  Spain 
and  Mexico,"  and  was  at  the  same  time 
engaged  in  the  preparation  of  an  elabo- 
rate work  on  the  law  of  nations,  to  sup- 
ply a  want  suggested  by  his  California 
experience.  He  had  often,  while  serv- 
ing on  the  staff  of  Commodore  Shu- 
brick, and  as  Secretary  of  State  under 
the  military  commanders  of  the  terri- 
tory, he  says,  been  required  to  give  opi- 
nions on  questions  of  international  law 


AMBROSE  EVERETT  BURNSIDE. 


This  officer,  wlio  lias  attained  tlie 
hiorliest  rank  in  the  volunteer  service 
of  the  United  States,  and  whose  higli 
personal  character  has  seconded  his 
efforts  in  the  field  in  raising  him  to 
this  distinction,  and  in  securing  him 
several  most  important  commands,  was 
born  at  Liberty,  in  Union  County,  In- 
diana, May  23,  1824.     His  family  is 
from  Scotland,  both  his  grandparents 
having  emigrated  from  that  country, 
about  the  end  of  the  last  century,  to 
South  Carolina,  where  his  father  was 
born,  married,  and  engaged  in  the  prac- 
tice of  the  law.    The  latter  removed, 
in  1821,  to  Indiana,  where  he  became 
a  circuit  judge.  At  the  age  of  eighteen, 
his  son  Ambrose  entered  the  Military 
Academy  at  West  Point,  graduating  in 
184Y,  fifteenth  in  a  class  of  forty-seven, 
when  he  was  appointed  second-lieuten- 
ant in  the  third  artillery.    The  war 
with  Mexico  being  then  in  progress, 
he  was  ordered  to  the  seat  of  war 
with  General  Patterson's  column,  but 
arrived  too  late  to  participate  in  the 
brilliant  action  of  the  campaign.  He 
rendered  efficient  service,  however,  in 
protecting  the  line  of  communications. 
Returning  from  Mexico,  he  was  sta- 
tioned for  some  time  at  Fort  Adams, 
in  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  and  in  1849 
was  ordered  to  New  Mexico  as  first- 

.  416 


lieutenant  in  Captain  Bragg' s  celebrat- 
ed battery.    The  command  being  re- 
organized as  cavalry,  Lieutenant  Burn- 
side  was  frequently  employed  in  con- 
flicts with  the  Indians — a  service  which 
has  always  proved  an  effective  school 
in  the  training  of  the  American  officer. 
While  in  New  Mexico  he  was  engaged 
(1850-51)  as  quartermaster  in  the  Mex- 
ican Boundary  Commission.  Return- 
ing to  the  Atlantic  seaboard  as  bearer 
of  despatches,  he  was  promoted  to  a 
first-lieutenancy  at  the  close  of  the  year. 
Resigning  this  rank  in  1853,  he  made 
his  residence  in  Rhode  Island,  having 
married  a  lady  of  that  State,  and  set 
up  an  establishment  at  Bristol  for  the 
manufacture  of  a  breech-loading  rifle, 
which  he  had  invented,  and  for  the  in- 
troduction of  which  into  the  service  he 
had,  it  is  said,  assurances  from  the  Se- 
cretary of  War,  John  B.  Floyd.  Dis- 
appointed in  not  receiving  the  contract 
from  the  Government  which  he  had 
expected,  he  was  compelled  to  relin- 
quish his  manufacturing  enterprise  with 
heavy  loss.    Removing  to  the  West,  he 
presently  found  employment  as  cashier 
in  the  land  office  of  the  Illinois  Central 
Railroad,  and  subsequently  as  treasurer 
of  the  company,  the  duties  of  which 
he  discharged  at  New  York.  General 
McClellan  was  at  this  time  at  the  head 


AMBROSE   EVERETT  BURNSIDE. 


417 


of  the  company,  and  a  warm  friend- 
ship existed  between  tlie  two  officers. 

The  war  of  the  Rebellion  now  break- 
ins:  out,  Lieutenant  Burnside  was  invited 
by  Governor  Sprague  to  the  command 
of  a  re2:iment  of  Rhode  Island  volun- 
teers.  Promptly  accepting  the  commis- 
sion, four  days  after  his  arrival  at  Provi- 
dence he  Avas  at  the  head  of  his  men 
on  his  way  to  answer  the  first  call  of  the 
President  for  the  defence  of  the  national 
capital.  Energetically  disciplining  his 
regiment,  he  possessed  the  confidence 
of  the  commander-in-chief,  and  was  as- 
signed an  important  part  in  the  battle 
of  Bull  Run,  in  which  he  served  in 
command  of  the  second  brigade  of  Ge- 
neral Hunter's  division.  He  brought 
his  troops  gallantly  into  action  and 
sustained  the  conflict  of  the  day  with 
great  heroism,  as  the  severe  loss  of  the 
Second  Rhode  Island  Regiment  in  his 
command  particularly  testified.  His 
services  on  this  occasion  were  greatly 
commended  by  General  McDowell,  and 
gained  him  the  appointment  of  briga- 
dier-general of  volunteers.  He  was, 
during  the  remainder  of  the  summer 
of  1861,  employed  with  General  McClel- 
lan  in  organizing  the  newly-enlisted 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  in  October 
was  appointed  to  a  separate  command 
at  the  head  of  the  expedition  pro- 
jected for  the  occupation  of  an  impor- 
tant portion  of  North  Carolina.  The 
gathering  of  his  forces,  chiefly  New 
England  regiments,  with  the  necessary 
preparation  and  equipment,  occupied 
him  at  New  York  for  the  remainder  of 
the  year ;  and  it  was  not  till  the  mid- 
dle of  January,  1862,  that  "the  Burn- 
side  Expedition,"  composed  of  nbout 


sixteen  thousand  troops,  with  a  large 
naval  force,  under  fla2;-officer  Golds- 
borough,  set  sail  from  Fortress  Monroe. 
The  object  of  the  expedition  was  the 
capture  of  the  enemy's  forces  on  Roa- 
noke Island,  and  the  permanent  control 
of  the  waters  of  Albemarle  and  Pam- 
lico Sounds.  Unexpected  difficulties 
were  encountered  in  the  passage  of 
the  entrance  at  Hatteras  Inlet,  which 
proved  the  energy  and  perseverance  of 
General  Burnside,  who  finally,  on  the 
8th  of  February,  in  concert  with  Com- 
modore Goldsborough,  brought  his 
forces  into  action,  in  the  battle  of  Roa- 
noke Island,  when  the  enemy  was 
thorougly  routed.  General  Burnside 
was  much  commended  for  this  affair. 
The  Legislature  of  Rhode  Island  voted 
him  a  sword,  and  he  was  the  next  month 
promoted  major-general  of  volunteers. 
His  success  at  Roanoke  determined 
him  in  an  attack  upon  Newl^ern,  the 
defences  of  which  were  gallantly  car- 
ried on  the  14th  of  March — a  victory 
which  was  the  following  month  suc- 
ceeded by  the  reduction  of  Fort  Macon. 

Having  thus  triumphed  in  three  im- 
portant actions  in  his  Department  of 
North  Carolina,  General  Burnside  was 
next  summoned  to  the  aid  of  General 
McClellan,  at  the  time  he  was  about 
leaving  the  peninsula  of  Virginia  after 
his  unsuccessful  siege  of  Richmond.  In 
the  new  campaign  of  General  Pope  he 
was  at  first  stationed  on  the  Rappahan- 
nock, at  Fredericksburg,  whence  he  re- 
treated, with  the  rest  of  the  army  of  Vir 
ginia,  to  Washington.  In  the  battles 
which  ensued,  consequent  upon  Lee's  in- 
vasion of  Maryland,  he  bore  a  prominent 
part.  He  had  at  the  outset  the  command 


418 


AMBROSE  EVERETT  BTJRNSIDE. 


of  tlie  light  wiug  of  tlie  army,  composed 
of  tlie  first  and  ninth  army  corps,  and 
directed  the  operations,  resulting,  on 
the  14th  of  September,  1862,  in  the 
occupation  of  Turner's  Gap,  South 
Mountain.  In  the  action  which  ensued 
on  the  seventeenth,  at  Antietam  Creek, 
General  Burnside  was  in  command  of 
the  left  wing,  which  was  engaged  in 
the  attack  on  the  lower  bridge,  where 
some  of  the  severest  fighting  of  the 
day  took  place.  After  repeated  at- 
tempts and  much  slaughter,  the  bridge 
was  carried  and  an  advance  position 
gained  by  General  Burnside's  com- 
mand. General  Lee  having  been  de- 
feated, recrossed  the  Potomac,  and  after 
an  interval  of  more  than  a  month,  was 
followed  by  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

General  Burnside,  in  the  new  move- 
ment of  General  McClellan  in  Virgi- 
nia, had  command  of  the  ninth  army 
corps,  and  had  reached,  with  the  main 
army,  the  vicinity  of  Warrenton,  when 
he  was,  on  the  8th  of  November,  unex- 
pectedly ordered  to  take  the  command 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  in  place  of 
General  McClellan,  who  was  removed. 
Reluctantly  accepting  the  new  and  re- 
sponsible position.  General  Burnside 
rapidly  moved  the  army  to  the  Rap- 
pahannock opposite  Fredericksburg, 
which  he  considered  the  best  mode  of 


approaching  Richmond,  with  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  secure  communication  by 
water  at  Aquia  Creek.  Here  he  re- 
mained, opposite  the  army  of  General 
Lee,  preparing  for  an  assault  upon  the 
enemy,  which  was  finally  made  on  the 
12th  of  December,  when  the  divisions 
of  Sumner,  Hooker,  and  Franklin  hav- 
ing crossed  the  river,  possession  was 
gained  of  the  town,  and  a  desperate 
attack  made  upon  the  rebel  works  in 
the  rear.  In  this  the  Union  forces,  not- 
withstanding their  gallant  advance, 
were  repulsed  with  heavy  losses,  and 
compelled  to  retreat  to  their  old  posi- 
tion. A  second  attempt  was  about  to 
be  made  by  General  Burnside  to  meet 
the  enemy  on  the  20th  of  January, 
1863,  which  was  prevented  by  a  heavy 
rain  storm.  There  was  some  dissatis- 
faction also  on  the  part  of  the  officers 
of  his  command,  and  a  few  days  after, 
at  his  own  request,  General  Burnside 
was  relieved  of  the  command  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  succeeded  by 
General  Hooker.  General  Burnside 
was  shortly  after  appointed  to  a  new 
field  of  operations  in  the  West,  in  the 
command  of  the  important  Department 
of  the  Ohio.  Here,  at  the  entrance  on 
a  most  responsible  sphere  of  military 
duty,  our  brief  narrative  must  for  the 
present  close. 


JoljTisoij.Fiy&Co.Piiljlisliej-B,  "NcwTor^. 


JOSEPH  HOOKER. 


G-EKERAL  Hooker,  of  the  United 
States  Army,  was  born  in  Hadley,  Mass., 
in   1819.     He   entered  the  Military 
Academy  at  West  Point,  at  the  age  of 
fourteen,  and  graduated  in  due  course 
in  1837,  securing  the  appointment  of 
second-lieutenant  in  the  first  artillery. 
He  was  promoted  to  a  first-lieutenancy 
the  following  year,  and  held  the  rank 
of  adjutant  at  the  Military  Academy, 
and  in  various  duties  from  1841  to 
1846.    The  Mexican  War,  which  fol- 
lowed, gave  him  ample  opportunity  to 
prove  his  valor  on  many  well-fought 
fields,  in  the  Jines  of  General  Taylor  and 
General  Scott.    For  his  gallant  conduct 
in  the  several  conflicts  at  Monterey,  on 
the  21st,  22d,  and  23d  of  Sept  ember, 
1846,  he  was  bre vetted  captain,  and  in 
the  ensuing  March  was  appointed  as- 
sistant adjutant-general.    Engaged  in 
the  advance  upon  the  capital,  he  was 
again,  in  1847,  brevetted  major,  for  gal- 
lant and  meritorious  conduct  in  the 
action,  at  the  National  Bridge,  and,  be- 
fore the  close  of  the  campaign,  lieute- 
nant-colonel, for  his  services  in  the  bat- 
tle of  Chapultepec.    His  record,  thus, 
in  the  Mexican  War  was  one  of  dis- 
tinguished bravery  followed  by  rapid 
promotion. 

In  1848,  he  rose  to  the  full  rank  of 
captain  in  his  regiment,  and  relinquish- 


ing his  rank  in  the  line,  was  appointed 


assistant  adjutant-general  with  the  rank 
of  captain,  a  position  which  he  held  till 
1853,  when,  while  on  duty  in  Cali- 
fornia, he  retired  from  the  service,  pur 
chased  a  tract  of  land  on  the  Bay  of 
San  Francisco,  and  was  there  occupied 
as  a  farmer,  till  the  outbreak  of  the  Re- 
bellion in  1861  again  summoned  him  to 
the  field.  Hastening  to  the  Atlantic  sea- 
board, he  was  appointed  from"  Cali- 
fornia on  the  first  list  of  brigadier-gene- 
rals of  volunteers,  dated  May  17th, 
1861,  and  was  assigned  a  brigade- in 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  composed 
of  the  1st  and  11th  Massachusetts,  the 
2d  New  Hampshire,  and  26th  Pennsyl- 
vania regiments,  which  acquired  con- 
siderable distinction  under  his  com- 
mand.    He  afterwards  was  at  the  head 
of  a  division  of  General  Hentzelman's 
corps.    While  General  McGlellan  was 
perfecting  the  organization  of  his  great 
army  before  Washington,  in  the  win- 
ter of  1861-2,  General  Hooker,  up  to 
the  time  of  the  movement  to  the  Pen- 
insula, was  on  duty  in  the  southern 
part  of  Maryland,  on  the  left  bank  of 
the  Potomac. 

When  the  siege  of  Yorktown  was 
commenced.  General  Hooker  joined 
the  army  on  the  Peninsula,  with 
his  command  took  part  in  that  affair, 


419 


420 


JOSEPH  HOOKER. 


and  on  the  evacuation  of  that  impor-  ; 
tant  position,  in  the  pursuit  of  the  ; 
enemy  which  ensued,  "bore  the  brunt 
of  the  hard-fonght  action  in  the  attack 
on  the  entrenched  line  of  the  enemy's 
works,  known  as  the  battle  of  Wil- 
liamsburg.   Hooker,  following  Stone- 
man's  cavalry,  sent  to  clear  the  way, 
was  engao-ed  on  the  left,  where  the 
contest  was  most  severe,  and  gallantly, 
with  the  assistance  of  Greneral  Kearney 
at  the  close  of  the  day,  fought  a  force 
of  the  enemy  three  or  four  times  larger 
than  his  own.    "  I  wish,"  wrote  Gene- 
ral McClellan,  after  the  action,  to  the 
Secretary  of  War,  "  to  bear  testimony 
to  the  splendid  conduct  of  Hooker's  and 
Kearney's  divisions,  under  command  of 
General  Heintzelman,  in  the  battle 
of  Williamsburg.    Their  bearing  was 
worthy  of  veterans.    Hooker's  division 
for  hours  gallantly  withstood  the  at- 
tack of  greatly  superior  numbers,  with 
very  heavy  loss."    In  consequence  of 
the  condition  of  the  roads  during  this 
encvao-ement,  General  Hooker's  troops 
were  inadequately  supplied  with  amu- 
nition,  but  they  stood  their  ground 
with  the  bayonet  and  with  such  pow- 
der as  they  could  collect  from  the  car- 
tridge-boxes of  the  fallen.    "  I  think," 
said  General  Hooker,  on  reviewing  the 
affair  before  the  Congressional  Com- 
mittee on  the  War,  a  year  after,  "  this 
was  the  hardest  fight  that  has  been 
made  this  war." 

General  Hooker  was  again  in  action 
with  a  portion  of  his  division  on  the 
second  day  of  the  battle  begun  at  Fair 
Oaks,  on  the  31st  of  May,  1862,  and 
with  the  other  efficient  corps  and  divi- 
sion commanders  bore  a  distinguished 


part  in  the  Seven  Days  Battles  which 
preceded  the  withdrawal  of  the  army 
to  the  James  Eiver,  and  particularly  in 
the  battle  of  Malvern  Hills,  which 
turned  a  virtual  defeat  into  a  glorious 
victory. 

The  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  next 
transported  to  the  Kappahannock,  to 
take  part  in  the  campaign  of  General 
Pope.    In  the  arduous  series  of  battles 
which  ensued  covering  the  retreat  to 
the  vicinity  of  Washington,  culminat- 
ing in  the  second  battle  of  Manassas, 
General  Hooker,  by  the  side  of  the 
faithful  Kearney,  who  here  sealed  his 
devotion  to  his  country  with  his  life, 
proved  his  valor,  corroborating  the 
title  to  admiration  which  his  command 
had  gained,  as  "  fighting  Joe  Hooker's 
division."    In  his  report  of  the  cam- 
paign, says  General  Pope,  "Generals 
Kearney  and  Hooker  have  that  place 
in  the  public  estimation  which  they 
have  earned  by  many  gallant  and  he- 
roic actions,  and  which  renders  it  un- 
necessary for  me  to  do  aught  except 
pay  this  tribute  to  the  memory  of  one 
and  to  the  rising  fame  of  the  other." 

General  McClellan's  brief  and  suc- 
cessful campaign  in  Maryland  followed, 
meeting  the  army  of  invasion  of  Lee  at 
the  passes  of  the  South  Mountain,  and 
in  the  bloody  engagement  on  the  banks 
of  the  Antietam.  In  these  actions 
General  Hooker,  who  had  now,  with 
the  rank  of  major-general  of  volun- 
teers, succeeded  General  McDowell  in 
the  command  of  the  first  army  corps, 
bore  a  distinguished  part.  At  the  bat- 
tle of  Antietam  he  commanded  the 
right  wino-  and  led  the  advance  in  the 
attack  upon  the  enemy's  lines.    On  the 


JOSEPH  HOOKER. 


431 


morning  of  tlie  lYtli  of  September,  tlie 
day  of  tLe  battle  when  he  airain  com- 
menced  the  action,  after  gaining  an  im- 
portant advantage  in  an  attack  upon 
an  advantageous  position,  as  lie  was 
reconnoitering  the  ground  for  a  farther 
advance,  he  was  wounded  in  the  foot 
by  a  bullet  and  compelled  to  leave  the 
field.    "  At  that  time,"  as  he  afterwards 
remarked,  "my  troops  were  in  the 
finest  spirits  ;  they  had  whipped  Jack- 
son, and  compelled  the  enemy  to  fly, 
throwing  away  their  arms,  their  ban- 
ners, and  saving  themselves  as  they 
best  could.    Some  of  the  commanding' 
officers  of  the  regiments  were  riding  up 
and  down  in  front  of  their  men  with 
the  colors  captured  from  the  enemy 
in  their  hands;  the  troops  almost  rent 
the   skies  mth  their  cheers ;  there 
was  the  greatest  good  feeling  that  I 
have  ever  witnessed  on  the  field  of 
battle." 

The  veteran  General  Mansfield  fell 
in  this  battle,  and  General  Hooker  re- 
ceived the  brigadiership  in  the  regular 
army  left  vacant  by  his  death.  This 
promotion   was    specially  urged  by 
General  McClellan  "as  an  act  of  justice 
to  the  merits  of  a  most  excellent  officer, 
who  was  eminently  conspicuous  for  his 
gallantry  and  .ability  as  a  leader  in 
several  hard-fought  battles  in  Virginia, 
and  who,  at  the  battle  of  Antietam 
Creek,  was  wounded  at  the  head  of  his 
corps  while  leading  it  forward  in  ac- 
tion.   It  would  be  but  a  fit  reward  for 
the  service  General  Hooker  rendered 
his  country.    I  feel  sure  his  appoint- 
ment would  gratify  the  entire  army." 
Recovering  from  his  wound.  General 
Hooker  was  restored  to  the  Army  of 
11—53 


the  Potomac,  now  under  General  Burn- 
side,  who  had  just  succeeded  General 
McClellan.    The  army  now  moved  to 
the  Rappahannock,  and  took  up  a  posi- 
tion in  front  of  Fredericksburg.    In  the 
great  action  of  December  13,  when  the 
Union  forces  were  sent  across  the  river 
and  sufi'ered  a  disastrous  repulse  from 
the  enemy's  superior  position,  General 
Hooker's  grand  division  bore  its  part 
gallantly  in  the  sacrifices  of  the  day, 
though   he   differed  from   the  com- 
mander-in-chief as  to  the  feasibility  of 
the  point  of  attack.     At  the  close  of 
the  following  month.  General  Burnside 
was  relieved  of  his  command  and  Gene- 
ral Hooker   appointed  in  his  place. 
He  had  now  an  opportunity  to  try  his 
own  method  of  attack,  and  accordingly, 
after  various  preparations,  at-  the^end 
of  April,  1863,  crossed  the  Rappahan- 
nock  with  his  army,  about  twenty-five 
miles  above   Fredericksburg,  with  a 
view  of  turning  the  enemy's  position, 
cutting  off  Lee's  retreat  to  Richmond, 
and  compelling  him  to  fight  on  terms 
favorable  to  the  Union  army.  General 
Stoneman,  with  a  considerable  cavalry 
force,  was  meanwhile  sent  to  cut  off  the 
enemy's  line  of  communications.  Gene- 
ral Hooker,  confident  of  victory,  massed 
his  army  at  Chancellorsville.    On  the 
2d  of  May  the  action  commenced  by  a 
vigorous  attack  by  the  enemy  tinder 
General  Jackson  on  the  Union  right 
wing,  which  gave  way  before  the  impe- 
tuous assault.    This  disaster  was  par- 
tially repaired,  and  the  contest  was 
renewed  with  much  severe  fighting  the 
next  day.    On  the  following,  a  violent 
rain  storm,  by  overflowing  the  river  in 
his  rear,  threatened  to  cut  off  the  army 


422 


JOSEPH  HOOKER. 


from  its  supplies,  and  the  order  was 
given  to  retreat.  Thus  Chancellorsville 
was  added  to  the  indecisive  battles 
of  the  war.  A  month  of  comparative 
quiet  now  ensued  on  the  Rappahan- 
nock, when  the  Confederate  general, 
Lee,  suddenly  set  his  army  in  motion, 
crossed  the  river,  and  hastened  to  a 
second  grand  invasion  of  Maryland  and 
Pennsylvania.  He  was  promptly  fol- 
lowed by  General  Hooker,  who,  by 
forced  marches,  transported  his  army 
to  Washington,  and  was  about  to  meet 
his  old  antagonist  in  Maryland,  when, 


on  the  28th  of  June,  he  was  relieved 
of  the  command,  and  succeeded  by  one 
of  the  most  eflScient  of  his  corps  com- 
manders. General  Meade. 

Such,  up  to  the  time  at  which  we 
vo-ite  (August,  1863),  has  been  General 
Hooker's  record  in  the  field.  Though 
of  necessity  but  briefly  indicated  in  this 
sketch,  his  career  in  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  frequently  illustrated  by  dar- 
ing valor,  if  not  always  successful,  has 
at  critical  moments,  on  more  than  one 
occasion,  claimed  for  him  the  gratitude 
of  his  country. 


BENJAMIN 


F.  BUTLER 


MAJOR-GEisrERAL  BuTLER,  of  the  Vo- 
lunteer sei-vice  of  the  United  States  in 
tlie  war  for  the  suppression  of  the  Re- 
bellion, is  a  native  of  the  State  of  New 
Hampshire.  He  was  born  in  Deer- 
field,  Rockingham  County,  November 
5,  1818.  Self-reliant  as  a  youth,  and 
dependent  upon  his  own  exertions,  he 
worked  his  way  to  a  liberal  education. 
Entering  .  Waterville  College,  Maine, 
of  which  institution  he  was  a  graduate 
in  1838,  he  then  applied  himself  to  the 
study  of  the  law  in  Lowell,  Massachu- 
setts, where,  on  his  admission  to  the 
bar,  in  1841,  he  began  the  practice  of 
his  profession,  and  soon  became  known 
as  a  successful  advocate.  Prompt,  bold, 
and  sagacious,  he  was  particularly  dis- 
tinguished as  a  criminal  lawyer.  As  an 
evidence  of  his  ingenuity,  it  is  said,  that 
at  the  very  commencement  of  his  career, 
he  secured  the  small  claim  of  a  female 
operative  against  a  wealthy  manufac- 
turer by  attaching  the  main  wheel  of 
his  factory.  The  anecdote  was  after- 
wards called  to  mind,  when,  as  major- 
general  at  New  Orleans,  he  was  dealing 
with  the  Rebellion,  and,  ever  fertile  in 
expedients,  was,  by  some  direct  stroke 
of  the  kind,  constantly  arresting  the 
movements  of  his  adversaries. 

A  lawyer  of  the  turn  of  mind  and 
professional  habits  of  Mr,  Butler  is  ever  I 


likely  in  America  to  find  his  way  into 
political  life,  and  he  was  no  exception 
to  the  rule.  His  early  experience,  per- 
haps, or  native  rugged  force  of  charac- 
ter, attached  him  to  the  Democratic 
party,  of  which  he  became  an  active 
member,  in  Massachusetts,  being  elect- 
ed to  the  State  House  of  Representa- 
tives in  1853.  He  was  a  member  of 
the  convention  for  the  formation  o^  a 
new  State  Constitution  the  same  year, 
and  in  1859  was  chosen  a  member  of 
the  Senate.  In  the  Presidential  cam- 
paign of  the  following  year  he  bore  a 
prominent  part,  serving  as  a  delegate  in 
the  Democratic  Convention  at  Charles- 
ton, and  subsequently  at  Baltimore. 
A  strict  party  man,  he  favored  and  ad- 
hered to  the  nomination  of  Breckin- 
ridge. He  was  at  this  time  an  unsuc- 
cessful candidate  for  governor  of  Massa- 
chusetts, In  addition  to  his  other  ac- 
tivities, he  held  the  rank  of  brigadier- 
general  of  militia  in  the  military  organ- 
ization of  the  State, 

Such  were  the  antecedents  of  General 
Butler  when  the  attack  upon  Sumter, 
in  April,  1861,  summoned  the  nation  to 
arms.  No  one  responded  more  promptly 
to  the  call.  Party  was  forgotten,  or 
rather  thrown  aside,  as,  placed  in  com- 
mand by  General  Andrews,  of  the  Mas- 
sachusetts regiments,  on  the  instant 

42S 


424 


BENJAMIN  F.  BUTLER. 


gathered  for  the  defence  of  Washington, 
he  hastened  to  the  field.    He  was  on 
his  way  with  the  eightli  regiment  at 
Philadelphia,  when  the  advance  of  his 
command  were  fired  on  in  the  streets 
of  Baltimore.     Quickly  appreciating 
the  situation,  he  hastened  to  Havre 
de  Grace,  seized  the  steam  ferry-boat 
at  that  place,  and  sailed  with  his  troops 
down  the  Chesapeake  to  Annapolis, 
where  he  arrived  in  time  to  occupy  the 
town  and  rescue  the  old  frigate  Con- 
stitution, "  Old  Ironsides,"  from  the  in- 
surgents.   An  order  to  his  regiment 
congratulated  them  on  this  patriotic 
service.   "  It  was  given,"  said  he  of  the 
honored  ship,  "to  Massachusetts  and 
Essex  County  first  to  man  her ;  it  was 
reserved  to  Massachusetts  to  have  the 
honor  to  retain  her  for  the  service  of 
the  Union  and  the  laws.    This  is  a  suf- 
ficient triumph  of  right,  a  sufficient  tri- 
umph for  us."    In  recognition  of  his 
position,  Greneral  Butler  was  immedi- 
ately placed  hj  the  Government  in 
command  of  the  Department  of  Anna- 
polis, including  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
On  the  5th  of  May,  advancing,  he  took 
possession  of  the  Kelay  House,  and  on 
the  14th  entered  the  city,  and  estab- 
lished his  head-quarters  in  a  fortified 
camp  on  Federal  Hill.    Having  in  this 
short  time  restored  order  to  his  depart- 
ment, he  was,  on  the  16th,  appointed 
major-general  of  volunteers,  and  as- 
signed to  the  new  Department  of  East- 
ern Vii'ginia,  with  his  head-quarters  at 
Fortress  ]\Ionroe. 

General  Butler  arrived  at  the  fortress 
on  the  22d  of  May,  and  the  next  day 
set  on  foot  a  reconnoissance  of  the 
neighboring  country  to  Hampton  and 


the  James  River,  forming  a  camp  on 
the  main-land,  and  occupying  the  im- 
portant position  of  Newport  News. 
The  advance  of  the  soldiery  repelled 
the  white  population,  and  brought  to 
the  camp  numbers  of  the  negro  slave 
population,  presenting  a  new  problem 
to  the  commander.  This  he  promptly 
solved  in  a  way  of  his  own.  Observ- 
ing the  aid  given  by  the  blacks  to  their 
masters  in  their  fortifications,  when  ap- 
plication was  made  by  a  rebel  officer 
for  the  return  of  several  of  these  fugi- 
tives, he  refused  the  request,  claiming 
them  as  "  contraband  of  war ;"  while 
he  undertook  the  su|)port  of  those  who 
fell  into  his  ihands,  setting  the  able- 
bodied  at  work,  crediting  them  with 
their  labor,  and  charging  them  for 
their  maintenance.  This  decision  gave 
a  new  word  to  the  language — "  contra- 
bands "  from  this  time  being  familiarly 
employed  as  a  designation  of  the  fugi- 
tive or  released  slave. 

The  chief  military  incident  of  Gen- 
eral Butler's  command  at  Fortress 
Monroe  was  the  attack,  in  June, 
upon  the  enemy  in  position  at  Great 
Bethel.  Like  many  of  the  early  efforts 
of  the  northern  army  in  the  war, 
it  proved  unsuccessful,  training  and 
experience  being  necessary  for  opera- 
tions in  the  field.  In  other  affairs  Gen- 
eral Butler  found  himself  an  efficient, 
officer.  In  the  middle  of  August  he 
was  succeeded  in  the  department  by 
General  Wool  ;  when,  remaining  in 
command  of  the  volunteer  forces  out- 
side the  fortress  in  this  capacity,  a  few 
days  after  he  accompanied  a  detach- 
ment of  the  troops  in  the  joint  naval  and 
military  expedition  to  Hatteras  Island. 


BENJAI\ITN  F.  BUTLER. 


425 


In  tlie  operations  for  the  reduction  of 
t-Lat  place  on  the  twenty-eighth,  he 
hinded  a  portion  of  his  small  command, 
and  was  about,  on  the  following  day, 
to  disembark  with  the  remainder,  when 
the  enemy's  forts,  overcome  by  the  na- 
val attack,  surrendered,  and  the  agree- 
able duty  fell  to  his  lot  of  imposing  the 
terms  of  capitulation.  He  required  an 
unconditional  surrender,  which  was 
conceded.  His  work  being  thus  early 
accomplished,  he  returned  in  one  of  the 
transports  to  Fortress  Monroe,  and  was 
the  first  to  bear  the  news  of  the  vic- 
tory to  the  North. 

After  this,  General  Butler  was  placed 
in  command  in  'New  England,  where, 
for  the  remainder  of  the  year,  he  was 
diligently  engaged  in  mustering  the 
forces  for  a  new  and  important  expedi- 
tion, destined  for  the  capture  of  New 
Orleans.  Several  months  were  passed 
in  the  enlistment  and  equipment  of  the 
troops.  -  At  length,  at  the  end  of  Feb- 
ruaiy,  1862,  Greneral  Butler  embarked 
at  Boston,  in  the  United  States  steam 
transport  Mississippi,  with  fourteen 
hundred  troops,  to  join  the  other  land 
forces  of  the  expedition,  which  had 
been  sent  forward  to  Ship  Island,  in 
the  Grulf  of  Mexico.  On  the  voyage 
the  steamer -ran  aground  on  a  shoal  on 
the  coast  of  North  Carolina,  and  was 
compelled  to  stop  at  Port  Royal  to  re- 
fit, finally  reaching  her  destination  on 
the  23d-  of  March.  A  month  from  that 
date,  the  joint  fleets  of  Farragut  and 
Porter  commenced  their  attack  upon 
Forts  Jackson  and  Saint  Philij),  in  the 
Mississippi,  Greneral  Butler  cooperating 
with  eight  thousand  troops  in  transport 
vessels.    In  the  plan  of  the  attack  it 


was  arranged  that  if  the  forts  were  not 
immediately  reduced  by  the  bombard- 
ment, General  Butler  should  carry  his 
force  out  of  the  southwest  pass  into 
the  Gulf  and  effect  a  landing:  in  the 
rear  of  the  works,  to  cut  them  off  from 
supplies,  or  take  them  by  assault.  Tlie 
contingency  arose,  and  the  appointed 
work  was  performed.  General  Butler, 
under  circumstances  of  unusual  difii- 
culty,  landed  three  thousand  of  his 
men  on  the  morass,  and  invested  Fort 
Jackson,  the  most  important  of  the  de- 
fences. The  garrison  mutinied  against 
their  officers,  turned  their  guns  against 
them,  and  the  majority  of  them  surren- 
dered to  the  pickets  preparatory  to  the 
formal  delivery  of  .the  forts  to  Com- 
mander Porter  on  the  28th  of  August. 
Captain  Farragut  meanwhile  ha^l  as- 
cended the  river  to  New  Orleans, 
whither  General  Butler  immediately 
proceeded  to  take  command  of  the 
city. 

At  this  period  commences  the  most 
characteristic  period  of  his  career.  The 
peculiar  state  of  society  in  New  Orleans, 
largely  composed  of  a  violent  and  dis- 
affected population,  ill  disposed  to  ac- 
cept the  return  to  the  Union  sud- 
denly enforced  upon  them,  required 
the  constant  exercise  of  vio-ilance  on 
the  part  of  the  new  rulers.  It  was 
an  authority  in  which  discretion  was 
as  necessary  as  firmness.  General  But- 
ler in  a  remarkable  degree  possessed 
both,  united  with  a  sagacity  or  mother 
wit  which  anticipated  evil  and  kept  off 
disaster.  His  first  requirement,  in  face 
of  the  early  exhibitions  of  treason  and 
violence,  was  that  the  flag  should  be 
respected.    "  I  find  the  city  under  the 


426   BENJAMIN 

dominion  of  the  mob,"  he  wrote,  on  his 
arrival,  to  the  Secretary  of  War.  "  They 
have  insulted  our  flac; — torn  it  down 
with  indignity.  This  outrage  will  be 
punished  in  such  a  manner  as,  in  my 
judgment,  will  caution  both  the  perpe- 
trators and  abettors  of  the  act,  so  that 
they  shall  fear  the  sti^ipes  if  they  do 
not  reverence  the  stars  of  our  banner." 
For  this  offence,  Mumford,  the  perpetra- 
tor, was  afterwards  tried  by  a  military 
commission,  under  General  Butler's  rule, 
and  executed.  The  example  was  thought 
necessary,  and  it  was  said  had  a  whole- 
some effect  upon  the  future  order  of  the 
city.  In  other  memorable  instances,  re- 
spect for  the  laws  was  enforced  by  tem- 
porary imprisonment  of  influential  per- 
sonages who  showed  hostility  to  the 
Government. 

One  of  his  numerous  "  orders  "  excited 
much  unfriendly  criticism,  being  greatly 
misrepresented,  of  which,  indeed,  from 
its  nature,  it  was  readily  susceptible. 
It  was  intended  to  remedy  an  evil  which 
had  been  felt  wherever  the  ISTorthern 
armies  had  come  in  contact  with  the  po- 
pulation of  the  Southern  cities,  among 
which  numerous  women  were  found 
who  systematically,  and  sometimes 
grosely  insulted,  the  Union  officers 
and  men.  This  was  frequently  carried 
to  a  length  to  be  insupportable.  Gene- 
ral Butler  accordingly  issued  his  order : 
"  As  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  United 
States  have  been  subjected  to  repeated 
insults  from  women  calling  themselves 
ladies  of  New  Orleans,  in  return  for  the 
most  scrupulous  non-interference  and 
courtesy  on  our  part,  it  is  ordered  here- 
after, when  any  female  shall,  by  mere 
gesture  or  movement,  insult  or  show 


F.  BUTLER. 

contempt  for  any  officers  or  soldiers  of 
the  United  States,  she  shall  be  regard- 
ed and  held  liable  to  be  treated  as  a  wo- 
man-about-town  plying  her  vocation." 
Disaffected  persons  chose  to  consider 
the  order  ambiguous,  and  vented  their 
indignation  upon  what  they  denounced 
as  its  impropriety  accordingly.  It 
was  simply  intended  to  make  the  act 
thoroughly  disreputable,  saying,  in  ef- 
fect, if  a  woman  is  so  lost  to  modesty 
as  to  insult  a  stranger  conducting  him- 
self with  decorum,  and  that  stranger 
entitled  to  particular  honor,  as  an  offi- 
cer of  the  United  States,  let  her  be  as- 
sociated with  the  infamy  of  which  her 
conduct  is  a  suggestion.  It  was,  un- 
doubtedly, putting  the  thing  in  a  strong 
light,  but  it  was  a  necessary  warning, 
and  it  cured  the  evil. 

Eepressing  disturbances  and  counter- 
acting disloyalty  were  but  parts  of 
General  Butler's  duty  in  New  Orleans. 
He  had  the  military  safety  of  his  de- 
partment to  provide  for,  which,  with  a 
moderate  force,  he  made  amply  secure; 
and,  most  pressing  of  all,  he  had  a 
starving  population  to  support.  No 
less  than  ten  thousand  families,  num- 
bering about  thirty-four  thousand  per- 
sons, were  fed  each  day  by  the  bounty 
of  a  relief  commission  which  he  insti- 
tuted. To  provide  the  necessary  out- 
lay he  imposed  fines  upon  wealthy  citi- 
zens who  had  given  their  aid  to  the 
Rebellion.  The  intelligent  and  influen- 
tial were  thus  made  responsible  for  the 
suffering  of  the  poor  and  ignorant.  A 
thousand  of  the  needy  were  kept  con- 
stantly employed  in  improving  the  con- 
dition of  the  city ;  and  so  beneficial  was 
this  labor,  that  a  season  which  was  ex- 


BENJAMIN 

peoted  to  be  one  of  unusual  sickness, 
proved  to  be  one  of  extraordinary 
health. 

In  the  discharge  of  these  and  other 
duties  of  equal  utility,  with  a  jealous 
regard  for  the  national  authority, 
Greneral  Butler  continued  in  command 
of  the  department  through  the  year, 
closins:  his  administration  with  an  im- 
portant  and  successful  military  move- 
ment, bringing  under  his  rule  the  lower 
district  of  Louisiana,  on  the  western 
bank  of  the  Mississippi.  In  December, 
1862,  he  was  succeeded  by  General 
Banks,  when  he  took  leave  of  his  Army 
of  the  Gulf  in  a  general  order,  in  which 
he  recapitulated  the  prominent  inci- 
dents of  the  service.  "  At  your  occupa- 
,  tion,"  said  he,  "order,  law,  quiet,  and 
peace  sprang  to  this  city,  filled  with 
the  bravos  of  all  nations,  where,  for  a 
score  of  years,  during  the  profoundest 
peace,  human  life  was  scarcely  safe  at 
noonday.  By  your  discipline  you  illus- 
trated the  best  traits  of  the  American 
soldier,  and  enchained  the  admiration 
of  those  that  came  to  scoff.  Landing 
with  a  military  chest  containing  but 
seventy-five  dollars,  from  the  hoards  of 
a  rebel  government  you  have  given  to 
your  country's  treasury  nearly  a  half 
million  of  dollars,  and  so  supplied 
yourselves  with  the  needs  of  your  ser- 
vice that  your  expedition  has  cost  your 


r.  BUTLER.  427 

Government  less  by  four-fifths  tlian  any 
other.  You  have  fed  the  starving  poor, 
the  wives  and  children  of  your  enemies, 
so  converting  enemies  into  friends  that 
they  have  sent  their  representatives  to 
your  Congress  by  a  vote  greater  than 
your  entire  numbers,  from  districts  in 
which,  when  you  entered,  you  were 
tauntingly  told  there  was  'no  one  to 
raise  your  flag.'  By  your  practical  phi- 
lanthropy you  have  won  the  confidence 
of  the  'oppressed  race'  and  the  slave. 
Hailing  you  as  deliverers,  they  are 
ready  to  aid  you  as  willing  servants, 
faithful  laborers,  or,  using  the  tactics 
taught  them  by  your  enemies,  to  fight 
with  you  in  the  field.  By  steady  atten- 
tion to  the  laws  of  health,  you  have 
stayed  the  pestilence;  and,  humble  in- 
struments in  the  hand  of  God,  you  "have 
demonstrated  the  necessity  that  His 
creatures  should  obey  His  laws,  and, 
reaping  His  blessing,  in  this  most  un- 
healthy climate,  you  have  preserved 
your  ranks  fuller  than  those  of  any 
other  battalions  of  the  same  length  of 
service.  You  have  met  double  numbers 
of  the  enemy  and  defeated  him  in  the 
open  field ;  but  I  need  not  further  en- 
large upon  this  topic.  You  wore  sent 
here  to  do  that.  I  commend  you  to 
your  commander.  You  are  worthy 
of  his  love.  Farewell,  my  comrades; 
again,  farewell !" 


JAMES  SHIELDS. 


BEIGADIEB-GElSrEEAL  JaMES  ShTELDS, 

of  the  United  States  Volunteers  in  tlie 
War  for  tlie  Union,  is  a  native  of  Ire- 
land. He  was  born  in  the  county  of 
Tyrone,  in  the  year  1810 ;  he  emigrated 
to  the  United  States  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen, pursued  a  course  of  liberal  studies, 
and  in  1832  settled  at  KaskasMa,  Illi- 
nois, becoming  a  citizen  of  the  State, 
and  engaging  in  the  practice  of  the  law. 
Early  entering  on  political  life,  he  be- 
came a  prominent  member  of  the  Demo- 
cratic party,  and  his  promotion  was 
rapid.  He  was  elected  in  1836  a  mem- 
ber of  the  State  legislature,  and  in  1839 
Auditor  of  the  State.  In  1843  he  was 
appointed  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Court 
of  Illinois,  and  in  1845,  in  the  adminis- 
tration of  President  Polk,  removed  to 
Washington,  having  received  the  ap- 
pointment of  Commissioner  of  the  Grene- 
ral  Land  Office.  The  Mexican  War  now 
breaking  out,  he  offered  his  services  for 
the  field,  and  was  appointed  by  the 
President,  brigadier-general  of  volun- 
teers, 1st  of  July,  1846.  In  this  capa- 
city he  was  with  the  army  of  General 
Scott  on  his  march  to  the  capital  by 
way  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  on  several  occa- 
sions in  the  campaign  distinguished 
himself  in  action.  For  his  gallant  and 
meritorious  conduct  at  Cerro  Gordo, 

where  he  was  dangerously  wounded, 
m 


he  was  brevetted  major-general  of  vo 
lunteers.  In  the  further  advance  to- 
ward the  capital  he  was  again  severely 
wounded  at  the  battle  of  Chapultepec. 
His  brigade  in  the  Valley  of  Mexico 
consisted  of  a  battalion  of  marines  and 
ISTew  York  and  South  Carolina  regi- 
ments of  volunteers. 

The  war  being  ended,  General  Shields 
retired  into  private  life,  resuming  his 
residence  in  Illinois,  whence,  in  1849, 
he  was  sent  by  the  legislature  to  the 
United  States  Senate.  On  the  comple- 
tion of  his  term,  in  1855,  identified  with 
the  interests  of  the  West,  he  removed 
to  Minnesota,  and  settled  on  lands 
which  had  been  bestowed  upon  him  by 
the  Government  for  his  army  services. 
On  the  adoption  of  a  constitution  by 
that  territory,  he  was  again  sent  to  the 
United  States  Senate,  in  1858,  as  a  re- 
presentative of  the  new  State,  and 
served  through  the  short  term,  at  the 
conclusion  of  which  he  removed  to  Ca- 
lifornia. 

When  the  great  Kebellion,  in  the 
spring  of  1861,  called  most  of  the  offi- 
cers of  the  old  Mexican  army  again  into 
the  field.  General  Shields  was  naturally 
looked  to  by  his  countrymen,  who 
formed  so  large  a  portion  of  the  new 
army,  for  active  service.  He  responded 
to  the  call,  presented  himself  at  Wash- 


I 


JAMES 

ington,  and  received  tlie  appointment, 
from  California,  of  brigadier-general  of 
volunteers,   his    commission  bearing 
date  August  19,  1861.    He  was  called 
into  active  service  on  tlie  death  of  Gen- 
eral Lander,  in  March,  1862,  when  he 
succeeded  that  officer  in  his  command 
in  Virginia  on  the  upper  Potomac.  In 
the  campaign  which  immediately  ensu- 
ed in  the  valley  of  the  Shenandoah  he 
bore  an  important  part,  being  in  com- 
mand at  the  battle  of  Winchester.  This 
action,  fought  on  the  23d  of  March,  fol- 
lowed on  the  memorable  advance  of 
Greneral  Banks,  in  command  of  the  de- 
partment, into  the  valley  from  Harper's 
Ferry,  a  movement  which  led  to  the 
enemy's  evacuation  of  their  cherished 
position  at  Manassas,  and  was  the  pre- 
cursor of  the  long  series  of  active  ope- 
rations of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  on 
the  Peninsula.    The  advance  of  Gene- 
ral Banks  with  his  forces  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  month  caused  the  retreat  of 
the  Confederates.    Charlestown,  Lees- 
burgh,   Martinsburgh,  and  presently 
"Winchester,  on  the  12th,  were  occupied 
by  the  Union  forces.    General  Shields, 
with  his  division,  was  then  sent  forward 
on  a  reconnoissance  beyond  Strasburg, 
when  he  discovered  the  rebel  general, 
Jackson,  reinforced,  in  a  strong  position 
near  Newmarket,  within  supporting  dis- 
tance of  the  main  body  of  the  enemy 
under  Johnston.  "  It  was  necessary  " — 
we  cite  the  account  of  General  Shields 
himself,  in  a  characteristic  letter  to  a 
friend,  written  shortly  after  the  event— 
"to  decoy  him  from   that  position. 
Therefore  I  fell  back  rapidly  to  Win- 
chester on  the  20th,  as  if  in  retreat, 
marching  my  whole  command  nearly 
II.— 54 


SHIELDS.  429 

thirty  miles  in  one  day.    My  force  was 
placed  at  night  in  a  secluded  position, 
two  miles  from  Winchester,  on  the  Mar- 
tinsburgh road.    On  the  21st  the  rebel 
cavalry,  under  Ashby,  showed  them- 
selves to  our  pickets,  within  sight  of 
Winchester.    On  the  22d,  all  of  Gene- 
ral Banks'  command,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  my  division,  evacuated  Win- 
chester, en  route  for  Centreville.  This 
movement,  and  the  masked  position  of 
my  division,  made  an  impression  upon 
the  inhabitants,  some  of  whom  were  in 
secret  communication  with  the  enemy, 
that  our  army  had  left,  and  that  nothing 
remained  but  a  few  regiments  to  garri- 
son this  place.    J ackson  was  signalized 
to  this  effect.    I  saw  their  signals  and 
divined  their  meaning.    About  five 
o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  the  22d, 
Ashby,  believing  that  the  town  was 
almost  evacuated,  attacked  our  pickets 
and  drove  them  in.    This  success  in- 
creased his  delusion.    It  became  neces- 
sary, however,  to  repulse  them  for  the 
time  being.    I,  therefore,  ordered  for- 
ward a  brigade,  and  placed  it  in  front, 
between  Winchester  and  the  enemy.  I 
only  let  them  see,  however,  two  regi- 
ments of  infantry,  two  batteries  of  ar- 
tillery, and  a  small  force  of  cavalry, 
which  he  mistook  as  the  whole  force 
left  to  garrison  and  protect  the  place. 
In  a  little  skirmish  that  evening,  while 
placing  the  artillery  in  position,  I  was 
struck  by  a  fragment  of  a  shell,  which 
broke  my  arm  above  the  elbow,  injured 
my  shoulder,  and  damaged  me  other- 
wise to  such  an  extent  that  I  have  lain 
prostrate  ever  since. 

"  I  commenced  making  preparations 
for  any  emergency  that  might  occur 


430 


JAMES  SHIELDS. 


tliat  niglit  or  tlie  next  morning.  Under 
cover  of  the  niglit  I  ordered  an  entire 
brigade  (Kimball's)  to  take  up  a  strong 
position  in  advance.  I  piislied  forward 
four  batteries,  having  them  placed  in  a 
strong  position  to  support  the  infantry. 
I  placed  Sullivan's  brigade  on  both 
flanks  to  prevent  surprise  and  to  keep 
my  flank  from  being  turned,  and  I  held 
Tyler's  brigade  in  reserve,  to  operate 
against  any  point  that  might  be  as- 
sailed in  front.  In  this  position  I 
awaited  and  expected  the  enemy's  at- 
tack next  morning.  My  advance  bri- 
gade was  two  miles  from  the  town,  its 
pickets  extending  perhaps  a  mile  fur- 
ther along  the  turnpike  leading  to 
Strasburg.  About  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  I  sent  forward  two  officers 
to  reconnoitre  the  front  and  report  in- 
dications of  the  enemy.  They  returned 
in  an  hour,  reporting  no  enemy  in  sight 
except  Ashby's  force  of  cavalry,  infan- 
try, and  artillery,  which  by  this  time 
had  become  familiar  and  contemptible 
to  us.  General  Banks,  who  was  yet 
there  in  person,  upon  hearing  the  re- 
port, concluded  that  Jackson  could  not 
be  in  front  possibly,  or  be  decoyed  so 
far  away  from  the  main  body  of  the 
rebel  army.  In  this  opinion  I,  too,  be- 
gan to  concur,  concluding  that  Jackson 
was  too  sagacious  to  be  caught  in  such 
a  trap.  General  Banks  therefore  left 
for  Washington,  His  staff  officers  were 
directed  to  follow  the  same  day,  by  way 
of  Centreville.  Knowing  the  crafty 
enemy,  however,  I  had  to  deal  with,  I 
omitted  no  precaution.  My  whole  force 
was  concentrated,  and  prepared  to  sup- 
poi  ^  Kimball's  brigade,  which  was  in 
advance.    About  half-past  ten  o'clock 


it  became  evident  we  had  a  considera- 
ble force  before  us  ;  but  the  enemy  still 
concealed  himself  so  adroitly  in  the 
woods  that  it  was  impossible  to  estimate 
his  numbers.  I  ordered  a  portion  of 
the  artillery  forward  to  open  fire  and 
unmask  them.  By  degrees  they  began 
to  show  themselves.  They  planted  bat- 
tery after  battery  in  strong  position,  on 
the  centre  and  on  both  flanks.  Our 
artillery  responded,  and  this  continued 
until  about  half-past  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  when  I  directed  a  column 
of  infantry  to  carry  a  battery  on  their 
left  flank  and  to  assail  that  flank,  which 
was  done  promptly  and  splendidly  by 
Tyler's  brigade,  aided  by  some  regi- 
ments from  the  other  brigades.  The 
fire  of  our  infantry  was  so  close  and  de- 
structive that  it  made  havoc  in  their 
ranks.  The  result  was  the  capture  of 
their  guns  on  the  left  and  the  forcing 
back  of  their  wing  on  the  centre,  thus 
placing  them  in  a  position  to  be  routed 
by  a  general  attack,  which  was  made 
about  five  o'clock  by  all  the  infantry, 
and  succeeded  in  driving  them  in  flight 
from  the  field.  Night  fell  upon  us  at 
this  stage,  leaving  us  in  possession  of 
the  field  of  battle,  two  guns  and  four 
caissons,  three  hundred  prisoners,  and 
about  one  thousand  stand  of  small 
arms."  The  loss  of  the  enemy  in  killed 
was  estimated  at  five  hundred,  and 
twice  that  number  wounded ;  the  Union 
loss  one  hundred  and  fifty  killed,  and 
three  hundred  wounded. 

Such,  in  the  narrative  of  General 
Shields,  was  the  battle  of  "Winchester. 
The  victory  was  gratefully  acknowledg- 
ed by  the  Secretary  of  War,  who  pro- 
nounced it  a  "  brilliant  achievement 


JAMES  SHIELDS. 


431 


Tvliile  General  McClellan,  tlien  General- 
in-Cliief,  congratulated  General  Shields 
and  Lis  troops  upon  theii*  "  energy,  ac- 
tivity, and  bravery." 

General  Shields  in  a  short  time  re- 
covered from  the  injury  which  he  had 
received,  and  resumed  his  active  duties 
in  the  field.  In  May,  his  division  was 
detached  from  the  command  of  General 
Banks  and  placed  under  that  of  Gene- 
ral McDowell  on  the  Rappahannock, 
when  it  was  presently  sent  to  the  upper 
portion  of  the  valley  of  the  Shenandoah 
to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  Confederate 
general,  Jackson,  who  had  driven  Gen- 


eral Banks  to  the  Potomac,  and  was 
now  in  his  turn  again  pursued.  Gene- 
ral Shields  in  this  movement  cooperat- 
ed with  General  Fremont,  the  one  pur- 
suing the  enemy  to  the  east  of  the  She- 
nandoah River,  the  other  on  the  left, 
and  the  efforts  of  both  to  resist  the 
march  of  Jackson  were  unsuccessful. 
A  portion  of  General  Shields'  division 
was  defeated  in  the  action  at  Port  Re- 
public, on  the  9th  of  June.  This  ended 
the  campaign.  Other  dispositions  of 
the  forces  were  now  required,  in  the 
arrangement  of  which  General  Shields 
was  relieved  from  active  service. 


THOMAS    FRANCIS  DUPONT. 


This  eminent  officer  of  tlie  United 
States  Navy,  wlio  has  "been  employed 
in  its  most  responsible  service  and  at- 
tained its  highest  honors,  was  born  at 
Bergen  Point,  in  the  State  of  New 
Jersey,  September  27,  1803.  As  the 
name  indicates,  the  family  is  of  French 
descent;  his  grandfather  and  father 
having  emigrated  to  the  United  States 
at  the  end  of  the  last  centniy.  Young 
Dupont,  the  subject  of  this  notice,  en- 
tered the  navy  in  his  boyhood,  being 
commissioned  a  midshipman  at  the  age 
of  twelve.  He  was  appointed  from  the 
State  of  Delaware,  December  19,  1815. 
Of  the  forty-eight  years  which  have 
been  passed  by  him  since  that  time  in  the 
public  service,  about  one  half  the  time 
ha?  been  spent  in  active  duty  at  sea. 
His  first  cruise  was  in  181*7,  with  Com- 
modore Stuart,  in  the  old  frigate  Frank- 
lin. In  1836,  being  then  a  lieutenant, 
he  commanded  the  Warren,  attached  to 
the  squadron  of  Commodore  Dallas  in 
the  West  Indies.  Having  been  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  commander,  in 
1845  he  was  assigned  the  command  of 
the  frigate  Congress,  the  flag-ship  of 
Commodore  Stockton,  in  a  cruise  in  the 
Pacific.  The  following  year  he  com- 
manded the  sloop-of-war  Cyane,  then 
employed  in  the  squadron  of  Commo- 
dores Shubrick  and  Jones  on  the  Cali- 

482 


fornia  coast.  It  was  the  period  of  the 
Mexican  War,  and  the  navy  was  fre- 
quently called  upon,  then  and  for  some 
time  after,  to  assist  the  military  power 
in  that  quarter.  On  one  occasion,  in 
1848,  Commander  Dupont  landed  at 
San  Jose  with  a  body  of  marines  and 
sailors,  and  defeated  a  largely  superior 
force  of  Mexicans,  rescuing  a  small 
party  under  Lieutenant  Heywood,  who 
had  been  beleaguered  in  the  Mission 
House.  In  1856,  he  was  promoted  to 
a  captaincy,  and  the  following  year 
sailed  in  command  of  the  steam  frigate 
Minnesota,  on  a  two  years'  cruise  in  the 
China  Seas.  On  his  return  to  the 
United  States,  he  was,  in  January, 
1861,  appointed  to  the  command  of 
the  navy-yard  at  Philadelphia. 

This  long-continued  employmem;  at 
sea  and  the  regard  in  which  he  was 
held  in  his  profession,  as  well  for  his 
high  personal  character  as  his  executive 
ability,  pointed  Captain  Dupont  out  as 
one  well  qualified  for  a  high  command 
in  the  arduous  services  now  required 
from  the  navy.  Accordingly,  when  the 
department,  early  in  the  administra- 
tion of  President  Lincoln,  was  summon- 
ing its  resources  for  operations  on  the 
Atlantic  coast,  Captain  Dupont  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  a  board  of  in- 
quiry, specially  summoned  at  Wash- 


THOMAS  FRA.NOIS  DUPONT. 


433 


ington  for  deliberation  on  tlie  course 
to  be  taken.    The  occupation  of  Hat- 
teras  Island  was  among  tlie  first  results 
of  tins  movement,  and  wlien  a  larger 
and  more  important  expedition  was 
prepared  for  a  descent  upon  tbe  coast 
of  South  Carolina,  Captain  Dupont 
was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  imposing 
fleet  destined  for  the  work.  The  choice 
of  the  locality  at  which  the  demonstra- 
tion should  be  made,  was,  in  a  great 
measure,  left  to  his  discretion.    It  was 
in  accordance  with  his  advice,  supported 
by  that  of  the  able  Assistant-Secretary 
of  the  Navy,  Mr.  Fox,  that  possession 
of  the  excellent  harbor  of  Port  Royal 
was  determined  upon  as  the  grand  ob- 
ject of  the  expedition.-    During  the 
summer  and  autumn  of  1861,  prepara- 
tions for  the  work  were  made  on  the 
most  ample  scale.     After  various  de- 
lays, the  land  and  naval  force,  the 
former  commanded  by  General  T.  "W. 
Sherman,  comprising  a  fleet  of  fifty  ves- 
sels, including  transports,  set  sail  on 
the  29th  of  October,  from  Hampton 
Roads,  Commodore  Dupont  in  the  flag- 
ship Wabash,  leading  the  way.  The 
weather,  fair  at  starting,  after  the  ships 
had  slowly  passed  Hatteras,  changed 
into  a  storm  of  great  severity,  in  which 
the  fleet  was  widely  scattered,  several 
transport   steamers   foundered,  many 
lives  were  lost,  and  others  preserved 
only  by  the  greatest  devotion  and  hero- 
ism.   A  week  was  passed  in  suffering 
and  repairing  the   disasters,  and  in 
making  the  preliminary  surveys  off  Hil- 
ton Head.    On  the  6th  of  November, 
the  flag-ship  crossed  the  bar,  and  on  the 
forenoon  of  the  following  day  the  fleet 
went  forward  to  encounter  the  formi- 


dable defences  on  either  side  of  the 
river,  of  Fort  Walker  and  Fort  Beau- 
regard, and  the  unknown  strength  of 
the  enemy's  flotilla,  under  Commodore 
Tatnall.    The  order  of  battle  was  ad- 
mirably arranged  by  Commodore  Du- 
pont.   As  described  by  him  in  his  ofii- 
cial   report,   it   comprised    "  a  main 
squadron  ranged  in  a  line  ahead,  and  a 
flanking  squadron,  which  was  to  be 
thrown  off  on  the  northern  section  of 
the  harbor  to  engage  the  enemy's  flo- 
tilla, and  preventing  them  taking  the 
rear  ships  of  the  main  line  when  it 
turned  to  the  southward,  or  cutting  off 
a  disabled  vessel.    The  plan  of  attack 
was  to  pass  up  midway  between  Forts 
Walker  and  Beauregard,  receiving  and 
returning  the  fire  of  both,  to  a  certain 
distance,  about  two  and  a  half  miles 
north  of  the  latter.    At  that  point  the 
line  was  to  turn  to  the  south,  round 
by  the  west,  and  close  in  with  Fort 
Walker,  encountering  it  on  its  weakest 
flank,  and  at  the  same  time  enfiladinsr 
in  nearly  a  direct  line,  its  two  water 
faces.     While  standing  to  the  south- 
ward, the  vessels  of  the  line  were  head 
to  tide,  which  kept  them  under  com- 
mand, whilst  the  rate  of  going  was 
diminished.    When  abreast  of  the  fort, 
the  engines  were  to  be  slowed,  and  the 
movement  reduced  to  only  as  much  as 
would  be  just  sufiicient  to  overcome 
the  tide,  to  preserve  the  order  of  battle 
by  passing  the  batteries  in  slow  succes- 
sion, and  to  avoid  becoming  a  fixed 
mark  for  the  enemy's  fire.    On  reach- 
ing the  extremity  of  Hilton  Head  and 
the  shoal  ground  making  off  from  it, 
the  line  was  to  turn  to  the  north  by 
the  east,  and,  passing  to  the  northward, 


434 


THOMAS  FRANCIS  DUPONT. 


to  engage  Fort  "Walker,  witli  tte  port 
battery  nearer  than  when  first  on  the 
same  course.  These  evolutions  were 
to  be  repeated.^' 

The  plan  thus  adroitly  arranged  was 
systematically  carried  out.  The  flag- 
ship in  advance,  commenced  the  move- 
ment, followed  by  her  comrades.  Three 
times  passing  the  formidable  Fort 
Walker — at  distances  of  eight  hundred 
and  six  hundred  yards,  the  Wabash 
poured  her  destructive  fire  into  the 
work.  Her  immediate  consort,  the  Sus- 
quehanna, gave  her  powerful  assistance, 
while  the  smaller  vessels  at  the  enfilad- 
ing point  swept  the  fort  with  their 
guns.  "The  enemy,"  wrote  Commo- 
dore Dupont  in  a  private  letter  to  Se- 
cretary Fox,  "  fought  bravely,  and  their 
rifle  guns  never  missed.  An  eighty- 
pound  rifle  ball  went  through  our  main- 
mast in  the  very  centre,  making  an 
awful  hole.  They  aimed  at  our  bridge, 
where  they  knew  they  could  make  a 
hole  if  they  were  lucky.  A  shot  in 
the  centre  let  water  into  the  after  maga- 
zine, but  I  saved  a  hundred  lives  by 
keeping  under  way  and  bearing  in 
close.  Yfe  found  their  sights  gradu- 
ated at  six  hundred  yards.  When  they 
once  broke,  the  stampede  was  intense, 
and  not  a  gun  was  spiked.  In  truth,  I 
never  conceived  of  such  a  fire  as  that 
of  this  ship  on  her  second  turn,  and  I 
am  told  that  its  effect  upon  the  specta- 
tors outside  of  her  was  intense.  I 
learn  that  when  they  saw  our  flag  fly- 
ing on  shore,  the  troops  were  powerless 
to  cheer,  but  wept.  General  Sherman 
was  deeply  affected,  and  the  soldiers 
were  loud  and  unstinting  in  their  ex- 
pressions of  admiration  and  gratitude." 


This  brilliant  victory  called  forth 
from  the  country  the  highest  congratu- 
lations. The  sentiment  of  Commodore 
Dupont  in  his  order  to  the  officers  and 
men  of  his  squadron,  in  which  he  ex- 
pressed his  "  full  sympathy  in  the  satis- 
faction they  must  feel  at  seeing  the 
ensign  of  the  Union  flying  once  more 
in  the  State  of  South  Carolina,  which 
has  been  the  chief  promoter  of  the 
wicked  and  unprovoked  rebellion  they 
have  been  called  upon  to  suppress," 
was  everywhere  echoed.  Secretary 
Welles,  in  the  name  of  the  nation,  ten- 
dered his  heartfelt  congratulations  to 
the  commander  for  "  the  brilliant  suc- 
cess," and  Congress,  at  the  especial  re- 
quest of  President  Lincoln,  by  a  joint 
vote  of  thanks,  added  its  tribute  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  "the  services  and 
gallantry  "  of  officers  and  men. 

Flag-officer  Dupont  continued  in 
command  of  the  South  Atlantic  Block- 
ading Squadron,  and  in  the  following 
spring  conducted  an  expedition  from 
Hilton  Head  along  the  coast  of  Georgia 
and  Florida,  compelling  the  surrender 
or  abandonment  of  the  forts  at  St. 
Simon's  Sound,  the  St.  Mary's,  and  St. 
John's,  and  establishing  Union  garri- 
sons at  Fernandina,  St.  Augustine,  and 
other  important  points.  These  events 
occupied  the  month  of  March ;  in  April, 
Captain  Dupont  had  the  satisfaction  of 
taking  part  in  the  final  proceedings,  so 
satisfactorily  terminated  by  the  bril- 
liant engineering  operations  of  General 
Gilmore,  of  the  siege  of  Fort  Pulaski. 
As  a  reward  for  the  services  in  his  de- 
partment, Flag-oflacer  Dupont  was,  in 
August,  promoted  to  the  rank  of  rear- 
admiral,  the  highest  grade  in  the  ser- 


THOMAS  FRANCIS  DUPONT. 


435 


vice,  created  by  an  act  of  tlie  recent 
Congress. 

The  remainder  of  tLe  year  was  em- 
ployed by  Admiral  Diipout  in  various 
duties  in  Lis  department  at  Port  Royal 
and  among-  tlie  islands,  in  wliicli  the 
fleet  bore  a  prominent  part.  In  the 
spring  of  1863,  a  squadron  of  powerful 
iron  clads  liavino;  been  gathered  at 
Hilton  Head,  an  anxiously-expected  as- 
sault was  made  upon  the  forts  in 
Charleston  harbor.  Admiral  Dupont 
commanded  the  fleet,  upon  which  the 
whole  movement  depended.  The  at- 
tack was  made  on  the  Yth  of  April. 
The  monitors  and  other  iron-clad  ves- 
sels were  led  gallantly  into  action ;  but 
chiefly  owing  to  unexpected  difficulties 
in  the  obstruction  of  the  channel,  the 
fleet  being  kept  under  the  concentrated 
fire  of  the  forts,  the  movement  which 
was  expected  to  result  in  the  capture 
of  Charleston  failed  of  success.  Com- 
paratively little  injury  was  suffered  by 
the  monitors,  while  considerable  dam- 


age was  inflicted  on  Fort  Sumter ;  but 
nothing  was  gained  by  the  fleet  be- 
yond a  better  knowledge  of  the  situa- 
tion and  a  practical  test  of  the  power 
of  the  new  naval  batteries. 

In  June,  Admiral  Dupont  had  the 
satisfaction  of  reporting  to  the  depart- 
ment the  capture  of  the  famous  rebel 
iron-clad,  the  Atlanta,  in  "Warsaw 
Sound.  This  vessel,  formerly  an  Eng- 
lish merchant  steamer,  the  Fingal, 
had  been  fitted  up  at  great  cost  at 
Savannah,  and  much  was  expected 
from  her  prowess  in  attacking  the 
blockading  fleet.  A  few  shots,  how- 
ever, from  the  monitor  Weehawken, 
Captain  John  Rodgers,  on  her  first 
coming  out,  effectually  disposed  of  her 
pretensions. 

Shortly  after  this.  Admiral  Dupont 
was  relieved  of  the  command  of  the 
South  Atlantic  Blockading  Squadron, 
which  he  had  for  nearly  two  years  held 
with  distinguished  honor,  and  returned 
to  his  home  at  the  North. 


DAVID    GLASCOE  FAREAGUT. 


This  energetic  and  intrepid  naval 
officer,  whose  career  on  tlie  Mississippi, 
from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  Vicksburg, 
has  identified  him  with  some  of  the 
most  substantial  services  rendered  to  his 
country  in  the  War  for  the  Union,  was 
born  in  East  Tennessee,  near  Knox- 
ville,  about  the  year  1801.    His  father, 
an  intimate  friend  of  General  Jackson, 
at  that  time  held  the  rank  of  major  in 
a  cavalry  regiment  in  the  service  of  the 
United  States— military  talents  being 
in  request  in  what  was  then  a  frontier 
region  infested  by  hostile  Indians.  On 
one  occasion,  in  the  childhood  of  David, 
his  mother,  in  the  absence  of  her  hus- 
band, was  required  to  defend  her  house 
against  a  party  of  those  savage  marau- 
ders, which  she  did  with  spirit,  remov- 
ing the  children  to  a  place  of  safety  and 
parleying  with  the  assailants  through  a 
partially  barricaded  door  till  Major  Far- 
ragut  with  his  squadron  of  horse  op- 
portunely came  to  the  rescue.  Scenes 
like  this  were  well  calculated  to  give 
strength  and  hardihood  to  a  youth  of 
spirit.    We  accordingly  find  young  Da- 
vid, when  his  father  was  called  to  New 
Orleans  to  take  command  of  a  gun-boat 
at  the  opening  of  the  war  of  1812,  anx- 
ious also  to  enter  the  service.  Falling 
in  with  Commodore  Porter,  his  wishes 
were  gratified  in  a  midshipman's  ap- 

486 


pointment  on  board  that  commander's 
ship,  the  Essex.    In  this  famous  vessel 
he  made  the  passage  of  Cape  Horn,  and 
in  his  boyhood  participated  in  that  no- 
vel and  remarkable  career  of  naval  con- 
quest and  adventure,  which  was  termi- 
nated by  the  heroic  action  with  two 
English  ships,  the  Phoebe  and  Cherub 
— one  of  the  bloodiest  on  record— in 
the  harbor  of  Valparaiso.    Young  Far- 
ragut,  boy  as  he  was,  seems  to  have  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself  in  this 
engagement.    His  name  is  mentioned 
with  honor  in  the  official  report  of 
Commodore  Porter  as  one  of  several 
midshipmen  who  "  exerted  themselves 
in  the  performance  of  their  respective 
duties,  and  gave  an  earnest  of  their  va- 
lue to  the  service,"  adding  that  he  was 
prevented  by  his  youth  from  recom- 
mending him  for  promotion.    He  waB 
then  but  thirteen,  and  previously  to 
the  action  had  been  engaged  in  con- 
ducting one  of  the  English  prizes  taken 
by  the  Essex  from  Guayaquil  to  Valpa- 
raiso, against  the  strong  remonstrance 
of  the  British  captain,  who  objected 
to  being  under  the  orders  of  a  boy; 
but  the  boy  insisted  upon  performing 
his  duty,  and  was  sustained  in  its  per- 
formance. 

Keturning  with  the  rest  of  the  offi- 
cers of  the  Essex  on  parole  to  the  Uni- 


1 1 


I 


DA^ID   GLASCOE  FARRAGTJT. 


437 


ted  States,  young  Farragiit  was  placec. 
hy  Coininodore  Porter  at  Chester,  Penn 
sylvauia,  under  the  tuition  of  one  of 
Bonaparte's  Swiss  Guards,  who  taught 
his  pupils  military  tactics.    Being  ex- 
changed, the  youth  resumed  his  nava 
career  as  midshipman  till  1825,  when 
being  on  the  West  India  station,  he  was 
commissioned  a  lieutenant.     For  the 
next  sixteen  years  we  jSnd  him  eno-ao-- 
ed  m  various  service  on  board  the 
Brand}^vine,  Vandalia,  and  other  ves 
sels,  on  the  coast  of  Brazil,  and  on  the 
recei^dng-ship  at   the  Norfolk  Navy 
lard.     He  was  commissioned  Com- 
mander in  1841,  and  ordered  to  the 
sloop-ofwar  Decatur,  in  which  he  join- 
ed the  Brazil  squadron.    Three  years' 
leave  of  absence  succeeded,  when  he 
was  again  on  duty  at  Norfolk,  and  in 
1847  was  placed  in  command  of  the 
sloop-of-war   Saratoga,  of  the  Home 
Squadron.     He  was  then  for  several 
years  second  in  command  at  the  Nor- 
folk Navy  Yard,  and  in  1851  was  ap- 
pointed   Assistant-Inspector   of  Ord- 
nance.   He  held  this  appointment  for 
three  years,  when  he  was  ordered,  in 
1854,  to  the  command  of  the  new  Navy 
Yard  established  at  Mare  Island,  near 
San  Francisco,  California,    In  1855,  he 
was  commissioned  captain,  remaining 
in  charge  of  the  ^avj  Yard  on  the  Pa- 
criic  till  1858,  when  he  was  ordered  to 
the  command  of  the  sloop-of-war  Brook- 
lyn, of  the  Home  Squadron,  from  which 
he  was  relieved  in  1860.    The  opening 
of  the  Eebellion  thus  found  him  at 
home  awaiting  orders. 

His  residence  was  at  Norfolk,  where 
he  was   in  rather  a  critical  position 
when,  on  the  fall  of  Sumter,  the  leaders 
n~55 


of  the  revolt  in  Virginia  hurried  the 
State  out  of  the  Union.    His  loyalty 
was  well  known,  and  of  course  exposed 
him  to  suspicion  and  hatred.    It  was 
evident  to  him  that  he  could  no  lonjT-er 
live  in  Virginia  in  safety,  without  com- 
promising his  opinions,  and  at  the  last 
moment,  the  day  before  the  Navy  Yard 
was  burned,  narrowly  escaping  impris- 
onment, he  left  with  his  family  for  the 
North,  his  journey  being  interrupted 
by  the  destruction  of  the  railroad  track 
from  Baltimore.  Arrived  at  New  York, 
he  placed  his  family  in  a  cottage  at 
Hastings,  on  the  Hudson,  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  New  York,  in  readiness,  at  the 
first  opportunity,  to  enter  on  active 
service.    "When  the  navy  was  reinforc- 
ed by  the  building  of  ships,  and  esta- 
blished on  its  new  footing,  in  the  first 
year  of  President  Lincoln's  administra- 
tion of  the  department,  when  the  cap- 
ture of  Hatteras  and  Port  Koyal  had 
given  an  impulse  to  naval  operations 
for  the  suppression  of  the  Eebellion, 
this  occasion  was  found  in  the  or^ani- 
zation  of  the  expedition  against  New 
Orleans.     By  an  order  of  Secretary 
Welles,  dated  January  20,  1862,  Cap- 
tain Farragut  was  ordered  to  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico  to  the  command  of  the  West- 
ern Gulf  Blockading  Squadron,  with 
such  portion  of  which  as  could  be 
spared,  supported'  by  a  fleet  of  bomb 
vessels  under  Commander  D.  D.  Por- 
ter, he  was  further  directed  to  "  j)ro- 
ceed  up  the  Mississippi  Kiver  and  re- 
duce the  defences  which  guard  the  ap- 
proaches to  New  Orleans,  when  you 
will  appear  off  that  city  and  take  pos- 
session of  it  under  the  guns  of  your 
squadron  and  hoist  the  American  flag 


438 


DAYID   GLASCOE  FARRAGUT. 


til erein,  keeping  possession  until  troops 
can  1)6  sent  to  you." 

Never  was  a  programme  of  sucli  mag- 
nitude more  faithfully  and  directly  car- 
ried out.  The  necessary  preparations, 
wliich  involved  many  delays,  having 
been  completed,  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment  in  March,  Captain  Farragut  en- 
tered the  Mississippi  in  his  flag-ship,  the 
steamer  Hartford,  acconipanied  by  the 
vessels  of  his  squadron.  He  was  pre- 
sently foUow^ed  by  the  mortar  fleet  of 
Porter,  and  everything  v^as  pushed  for- 
ward to  secure  the  object  of  the  expedi- 
tion. The  bombardment  of  Fort  Jack- 
son was  commenced  on  the  16th  of  April 
by  the  mortar  fleet,  and  kept  up  vigor- 
ously for  several  days,  preparatory  to  the 
advance  of  the  fleet.  Before  dawn  on  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-fourth,  the  way 
having  been  thus  cleared  and  a  channel 
through  the  river  obstructions  opened. 
Captain  Farragut,  having  made  every 
provision  which  ingenuity  could  sug- 
gest, set  his  little  squadron  in  motion 
for  an  attack  upon  and  passage  of  the 
forts.  The  fleet  advanced  in  two  co- 
lumns, the  right  to  attack  Fort  St.  Phi- 
lip and  the  left  Fort  Jackson.  The  ac- 
tion which  ensued  was  one  of  the  most 
exciting  and,  we  may  add,  confused,  in 
the  annals  of  naval  warfare.  Passing 
chain  barriers,  encountering  rafts,  fire- 
ships,  portentous  rams  and  gun-boats, 
fires  from  the  forts  and  batteries  on 
shore,  the  ofiicers  of  the  fleet  pushed  on 
v/ith  an  energy  and  presence  of  mind 
which  nothing  could  thwart.  In  the 
perils  of  the  day,  the  flag-ship  was  not 
the  least  exposed  and  endangered.  "  I 
discovered,"  says  Captain  Farragut  in 
his  report,  "a  fire-raft  coming  down 


upon  us,  and  in  attempting  to  avoid  it 
ran  the  ship  on  shore,  and  the  ram  Ma- 
nassas, which  I  had  not  seen,  lay  on  the 
opposite  of  it  and  pushed  it  down  upon 
us.  Our  ship  was  soon  on  fire  half-way 
up  to  her  tops,  but  we  backed  off,  and 
through  the  good  organization  of  our 
fire  department  and  the  great  exertions 
of  Captain  Wainwright  and  his  first- 
lieutenant,  ofiicers  and  crew,  the  fire  was 
extinguished.  In  the  meantime  our 
battery  was  never  silent,  but  poured  in 
its  missiles  of  death  into  Fort  St.  Philip, 
opposite  to  which  we  had  got  by  this 
time,  and  it  was  silenced  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  gun  now  and  then.  By 
this  time  the  enemy's  gun-boats,  some 
thirteen  in  number,  besides  two  iron- 
clad rams,  the  Manassas  and  Louisiana, 
had  become  more  visible.  We  took 
them  in  hand,  and,  in  the  course  of  a 
short  time,  destroyed  eleven  of  theiji. 
YV" e  were  now  fairly  past  the  forts,  and 
the  victory  was  ours  ;  but  still  here  and 
there  a  gun-boat  making  resistance. .  .  . 
It  was  a  kind  of  guerilla ;  they  were 
fighting  in  all  directions." 

Leavino;  Commander  Porter  to  receive 
the  surrender  of  the  forts,  and  directing 
Greneral  Butler  with  his  troops  of  the 
land  forces  to  follow.  Captain  Farragut, 
with  a  portion  of  his  fleet,  proceeded  up 
to  New  Orleans,  witnessing  as  he  ap- 
proached the  city  the  enormous  destruc- 
tion of  property  in  cotton-loaded  ships 
on  fire,  and  other  signs  of  devastation 
on  the  river.  The  forts  in  the  immedi- 
ate vicinity  of  the  city  were  silenced, 
and  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-fifth, 
as  the  fleet  came  up,  the  levee,  in  the 
words  of  Captain  Farragut,  "  was  one 
scene  of  desolation ;  ships,  steamers, 


DAVID   GLASCOE  FARRAGUT. 


439 


cotton,  coal,  etc.,  all  in  one  common 
blaze,  and  onr  ingenuity  being  mncli 
taxed  to  avoid  the  floatino;  conflao;ra- 
tion."  In  tlie  midst  of  tins  wild  scene  of 
destruction,  the  surrender  of  New  Or- 
leans was  demanded,  and  after  some 
pai'ley  the  American  flag  was,  on  the 
twenty-sixth,  hoisted  on  the  Custom- 
house, and  the  Louisiana  State  flag 
hauled  down  from  the  City  Hall.  Gen- 
eral Butler  next  entered  with  his  forces, 
and  the  mission  of  Flao-.Officer  Farramit 
was  fulfilled  to  the  letter.  It  was  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  triumphs  of  the 
war,  and  justly  was  it  celebrated  by  a 
general  thanksgiving  under  direction 
of  Flag-Officer  Farragut,  w^ho,  while  be- 
fore the  city,  appointed  an  hour  on  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-sixth,  "for  all 
the  ofl&cers  and  crews  of  the  fleet  to  re- 
turn thanks  to  Almighty  God  for  his 
great  goodness  and  mercy  in  permit- 
ting us  to  pass  through  the  events  of 
the  last  two  days  with  so  little  loss  of 
life  and  blood." 

The  country  hailed  this  decisive  vic- 
tory with  joy — the  more  that  it  was  a 
success  which,  if  not  unexpected,  was 
such  as  the  wishes  of  the  most  sanguine 
could  hardly  have  exceeded.  Eeview- 
ing  the  incidents  just  recounted  of  this 
splendid  achievement.  Secretary  Welles 
wrote  to  Flag-Officer  Farragut,  "  in  ob- 
taining possession  and  control  of  the 
lower  Mississippi,  yourself,  your  officers, 
and  our  brave  sailors  and  marines, 
whose  courage  and  daring  bear  historic 
renown,  have  won  a  nation's  gratitude 
and  applause.  I  congratulate  you  and 
your  command  on  your  great  success  in 
having  contributed  so  largely  towards 


destroying  the  unity  of  the  Kebellion, 
and  in  restoring  again  to  tlie  protection 
of  the  national  government  and  the  na- 
tional flag  the  important  city  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi valle}^,  and  so  large  a  portion  of 
its  immediate  dependencies."  At  the 
especial  request  of  President  Lincoln, 
also,  a  vote  of  thanks  was  passed  by 
both  Houses  of  Congress  to  Captain 
Farragut,  his  officers  and  men,  for  their 
gallantry  on  the  Mississippi  and  in  the 
capture  of  New  Orleans. 

More  than  a  year  of  arduous  labor 
for  the  land  and  naval  forces  of  the 
.  upper  and  lower  Mississippi  remained 
before  the  possession  of  that  river  was 
secured  to  the  Union.  In  these  active 
operations  Flag-Officer  Farragut — he 
was  appointed  Kear-Admiral  on  the 
creation  by  Congress  of  this  highest 
rank  in  the  navy  in  the  summer  of  1862 
— with  his  flag-ship,  the  Hartford,  ^Yas 
conspicuous.  In  the  campaigns  of  two 
seasons  on  the  river  from  'New  Orleans 
to  Vicksburg,  ending  with  the  surren- 
der in  July,  1863,  of  the  latter  long-de- 
fended stronghold  and  Port  Hudson, 
the  Hartford  was  constantly  in  active 
service.  In  these  various  encounters 
she  was  struck,  it  was  said  when  the 
good  ship  returned  to  New  York  for 
repairs  in  the  ensuing  mouthy  in  the 
hull,  masts,  spars  and  rigging  two  hun- 
dred and  forty '  times  by  round  shot 
and  shell,  and  innumerable  times  by 
Minie  and  rifle  balls.  The  reception  of 
Admiral  Farragut  at  New"  York,  the 
Brooklyn  Navy  Yard,  and  at  his  new 
home  at  Hastings,  was  earnest  and 
heartfelt,  becoming  the  occasion  and 
the  man. 


DAVID  D. 


PORTER. 


Among  tlie  coincidences  of  naval  and 
military  command  in  the  War  for  the 
Union,  tlie  association  of  the  names  of 
Farragut  and  Porter,  in  the  important 
series  of  operations  on  the  Mississippi, 
has  not  escaped  attention.  The  former, 
as  the  reader  has  seen  in  the  previous 
sketch,  was  introduced  to  the  service 
in  his  childhood,  under  the  care  and 
protection  of  Commodore  David  Porter, 
and  boy  as  he  was,  fully  shared  the 
adventures  and  perils  of  his  famous 
cruise  in  the  Pacific.  Nearly  fifty  years 
after  that  event.  Captain  Farragut,  in 
command  of  the  Department  of  the 
Gulf,  entered  the  Mississippi  in  concert 
with  the  son  of  his  old  commander  of 
the  Essex,  to  vindicate  the  national 
honor  by  the  restoration  of  New  Or- 
leans to  the  Union — a  service  which 
was  to  prove  the  ability  of  both  ofii- 
cers,  and  lead  them  to  the  highest  rank 
known  to  the  naval  service  of  the  United 
States.  Looking  into  the  future,  Com- 
modore Porter,  the  hero  of  the  War  of 
1812,  would  hardly  have  dreamt  that  the 
"  boy  midshipman,"  who  had  been  intro- 
duced to  him  at  New  Orleans,  would, 
with  two  of  his  own  sons,  at  the  end  of 
half  a  century,  receive  the  highest  honors 
of  their  country,  the  reward  of  the  most 
arduous  and  perilous  services  against  a 
domestic  foe  on  the  Mississippi. 

440 


Of  these  sons  of  Commodore  Porter 
thus  distinguished  in  this  field  of  duty, 
William  D.  Porter,  the  elder,  on  more 
than  one  occasion,  in  command  of  the 
gun-boat  Essex,  recalled  not  merely  the 
name  of  his  father's  vessel,  but  the  cou- 
rage and  patriotism,  the  spirit  and  suc- 
cess which  had  given  the  old  ship  her 
reputation.  The  younger,  David  D. 
Porter,  the  subject  of  this  notice,  born 
in  Philadelphia,  entered  the  navy  as 
midshipman  in  the  year  1829.  His 
first  cruise  was  in  the  Mediterranean, 
under  Commodore  Biddle,  till  1831. 
After  a  year's  leave  of  absence,  he  re- 
turned to  that  station,  which  has  ever 
proved,  in  its  liberal  intercourse  with 
the  men  of  other  nations,  and  its  undy- 
ing associations  of  nature  and  art,  a 
most  important  school  in  the  education 
of  the  young  naval  officers  of  the  Uni- 
ted States.  Having  passed  his  exami- 
nation in  1835,  young  Porter  was  at- 
tached to  the  coast  survey  service  from 
1836  to  1841,  when  he  was  promoted 
to  a  lieutenancy,  and  was  ordered  to 
the  frigate  Congress,  in  which  he  sailed 
for  four  years  on  the  Mediterranean 
and  South  American  stations.  In  1845 
we  find  him  attached  to  the  National 
Observatory  at  Washington  in  special 
service.  During  the  Mexican  War 
which  succeeded  he  was  in  charge  of  the 


I 


DAYID   D.  PORTER. 


441 


naval  rendezvous  at  'New  Orleans,  was 
subsequently  again  em2:)loyed  on  the 
coast  survey,  and  from  1849  to  1853 
\vns,  by  perjnission  of  the  department, 
in  command  of  the   California  mail 
steamers  Panama  and  Georo-ia,  runnino; 
from  New  York  to  Aspinwall,  a  rising 
commercial  service  of  national  impor 
tance,  to  which  his  experience  and  per- 
sonal character  were  of  great  value 
After  this  he  was  in  various  home 
service,  till  1861,  when  he  was  pro- 
moted to  the  rank  of  commander,  and 
placed  in  command  of  the  steam  sloop 
Powhatan,  in  which  he  joined  the  Gulf 
Blockading  Squadron  off  Pensacola.  He 
had  thus,  at  the  outbreak  of  the  Rebel 
lion,  been  thirty-two  years  in  the  ser- 
vice, over  nineteen  of  which  had  been 
spent  at  sea  and  nine  on  shore  duty. 

A  special  service  of  great  importance 
was  presently  entrusted  to  him.  When, 
in  the  beginning  of  1862,  an  expedition 
was  set  on  foot  to  open  the  Missis- 
sippi Eiver  to  ISTew  Orleans,  he  was 
assigned  to  the  command  of  a  fleet  of 
bomb  vessels  to  cooperate  with  the 
squadron  of  Captain  Farragut  in  that 
enterprise — a  service  which  he  carried 
out  with  distinguished  ability.    In  the 
movement  on  Forts  Jackson  and  Saint 
Philip  his  mortar  flotilla  led  the  way 
in  the  attack  on  the  18th  of  April. 
His  dispositions  were  most  skillfully 
made,  his  vessels,  ranged  in  three  di- 
visions, being  placed  under  the  lee  of 
a  thick  wood  closely  interwoven  with 
vines,  almost  impervious  to  shot,  while 
their  masts,'  dressed  off  with  bushes, 
seemed  part  of  the  forest,  and  thus 
escaped  being  a  mark  from  the  forts. 
The   fire  of  the   mortars   was  well 


directed,  and  by  evening  the  citadel 
of  Fort  Jackson  was  in  flames.  The 
second  day  the  fire  was  resumed  with 
destructive  effect,  and  was  continued,  in 
the  face  of  the  most  serious  opposition 
with  various  resources,  till  the  twenty- 
fourth,  when  the  final  passage  of  the 
forts  was  made  by  the  fleet  of  Captain 
Farragut.  The  details  of  these  six  days 
of  mortar  practice,  as  related  in  the  re- 
port of  Commander  Porter,  are  of  the 
highest  interest.    From  the  wet  and 
soft  nature  of  the  soil  at  the  fort  the 
bombs  descended  into  the  ground  to 
the  depth  of  twenty  feet  before  ex- 
ploding, which  in  a  measure  destroyed 
their  effect.    The  firing  was  performed 
with  great  regularity,  the  divisions  be- 
ing arranged  in  three  watches  of  four 
hours   each,  firing  during  the  twen- 
ty-four hours  fifteen  hundred  shells. 
"This,  I  found,"  says  Commander  Porter, 
"  rested  the  crews  and  j)roduced  more 
accurate  firing.  Overcome  with  fatigue, 
I  had  seen  the  commanders  and  crews 
lying  fast  asleep  on  deck  with  a  mortar 
on  board  the  vessel  next  to  them  thun- 
dering away,  and  shaking  everything 
around  them  like  an  earthquake.  The 
windows  were  broken  at  the  Balise, 
thirty  miles  distant." 

During  the   advance  of  the  fleet 
through  the  terrible  scene  of  carnage, 
when,  as  the  ships  were  seen,  in  the 
words  of  Commander  Porter,  "  passing 
through  the  flames,  which  seemed  to 
be  literally  eating  them  up,"  the  mor- 
tar fleet  kept  up  a  destructive  enfilad 
ing  fire.    To  this  division  of  the  expe 
dition  was  left  the  final  disposition  of 
the  forts,  which,  though  seriously  in 
jured,  were  not  without  the  means  of 


442  DAVID  D. 

continuing  the  struggle,  having,  besides 
their  own  resources,  several  steamers 
and  a  powerful  steam  battery  at  hand. 
Commander  Porter,  immediately  on  the 
passage  of  the  ships,  demanded  the 
surrender  of  the  forts,  which  was  re- 
fused.   He  consequently  prepared  to 
renew  the  bombardment,  and  fired  a 
fe^v   shots,  which  were  unanswered, 
"The  fight,"  says  he,  "had  all  been 
taken  out  of  them."     He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  blockade  the  bayous,  and  cut 
off  the  garrison  from  escape.   A  second 
demand  for  surrender  was  better  re- 
ceived, and  on  the  twenty-eighth  the 
capitulation  was   signed  by  Captain 
Porter  and  the  Confederate  command- 
ers. General  Duncan  and  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Pliggins,  on  board  the  Harriet 
Lane.    "While  this  was  being  arranged 
in  the  cabin,  the  steam  battery  Louisi- 
ana, and  the  rebel  steamers  alongside 
of  her,  were  treacherously  set  on  fire, 
and  it  became  necessary  to  protect 
the  Harriet  Lane  from  the  burning 
battery,  a  vessel  of  four  thousand  tons, 
mounting  sixteen  heavy  guns,  which 
was  drifting  down,  threatening,  besides 
the  conflagration,  a  fearful  explosion. 
The  conference  still  went  on  in  the 
midst   of  this   terrific   scene.  Com- 
mander Porter  inquired  of  the  com- 
manders of  the  forts  who  were  negoti- 
ating with  him,  and  who  threw  the  re- 
sponsibility of  the  burning  upon  the 
rebel  naval  officer,  "if  they  knew  if 
the  guns  of  the  battery  were  loaded,  or 
if  she  had  much  powder  on  board. 
The  answer  was,  'I  presume  so,  but 
we  know  nothing  about  the  naval  mat- 
ters here.'   At  this  moment,"  continues 
Porter,  in  his  report,  "the  guns,  being 


PORTER. 

heated,  commenced  going  off,  with  a 
probability  of  throwing  shot  and  shell 
amidst  friend  and  foe.  I  did  not  deign 
to  notice  it,  further  than  t#  say  to  the 
military  officers:  'If  you  don't  mind 
the  effects  of  the  explosion  which  is 
soon  to  come,  we  can  stand  it.'  The 
conference  was  carried  on  calmly  to  its 
end,  the  burning  mass  meanwhile  float-, 
ing  on  in  the  direction  of  Fort  Saint 
Philip,  abreast  of  which  it  blew  up 
with  a  fearful  explosion,  scattering  its 
fragment"  in  all  directions,  and  killing 
one  of  the  garrison  in  the  fort.  When 
the  smoke  cleared  off,  the  battery  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen,  having  sunk  imme- 
diately in  the  deep  water  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi." 

After  the  capture  of  New  Orleans, 
Commander  Porter  continued  to  coop- 
erate with  Captain  Farragut  on  the 
Mississippi,  being  engaged  in  the  move- 
ment upon  Vicksburg  in  May.  He 
was  afterwards  ordered,  in  July,  when 
operations  in  this  quarter  had  been 
suspended  for  the  season,  with  a  por- 
tion of  his  flotilla,  to  the  James  Kiver. 
In  the  following  October  he  was  placed 
in  command  of  the  Mississippi  squad- 
ron, with  the  rank  of  acting  rear-admi- 
ral. He  was  now  actively  employed 
in  cooperation  with  Admiral  Farragut, 
and  when,  in  the  ensuing  year,  opera- 
tions were  actively  resumed  for  the 
capture  of  Vicksburg,  his  squadron,  in 
concert  with  the  victorious  army  of 
General  Grant,  was  constantly  em- 
ployed in  the  most  hazardous  and  hon- 
orable service.  His  daring  and  success- 
ful attack,  on  the  29th  of  April,  upon 
the  Confederate  batteries  at  Grand 
'  Gulf  prepared  the  way  for  Grant's  deci 


DAYID  D 

sive  movement  from  beloAV  upon  Vicks- 
buro-.  "  We  liud  a  hard  fisrlit  for  these 
forts,"  wrote  Porter  to  tlie  Secretary 
of  the  Navy,  "  and  it  is  vnth.  great  plea- 
sure that  I  report  that  the  navy  holds 
the  door  to  Yicksburo-.  Grand  Gulf  is 
the  strongest  place  on  the  Mississippi." 
The  door  being  opened,  Grant's  forces 
advanced,  from  victory  to  victory,  to 
the  final  conquest,  steadily  assisted  by 
Admiral  Porter,  For  forty-two  days 
preceding  the  surrender  of  Vicksburg 
the  mortar  boats  were  at  work  throw- 
ing shells  into  the  city;  a  powerful 
battery,  placed  on  scows,  at  the  same 
time  bombarded  the  water  works. 
Other  guns  were  mounted  to  assist  the 
army  operations  in  the  rear  of  the  town, 
while  the  smaller  gun-boats  were  em- 
ployed in  guarding  the  transportation 
of  supplies  by  the  river.  In  these  ope- 
rations eleven  thousand  five  hundred 
shells  were  fired  by  the  mortar  vessels 
and  gun-boats,  and  four  thousand  five 
hundred  shots  from  the  naval  guns  on 
shore. 

When  the  final  hour  of  deliverance 
came,  on  the  Anniversary  of  the  Na- 


.  rORTER.  443 

tional  Independence,  it  fell  to  the  lot 
of  xidmiral. Porter,  in  a  dispatch  dated 
on  board  his  flag-ship  Blackhawk  to  for- 
ward to  the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  at 
Washington,  this  brief  and  authoritative 
announcement :  "  Sir,  I  have  the  honor 
to  inform  you  that  Vicksburg  surren- 
dered to  the  United  States  forces  on 
the  4th  of  July."  This  was  the  first 
bulletin  to  the  country  and  to  the  world 
'.  of  this  memorable  event.  Simultaneous 
with  the  victory  of  General  Meade  over 
Lee  at  Gettysburg,  it  was  hailed  as 
the  crowning  disaster  to  the  Kebellion. 
When  the  tidings  were  received  in 
Washington,  and  read  to  the  President, 
flags  were  displayed  from  the  depart- 
ments, and  a  salute  of  a  hundred  guns 
ordered  by  the  Secretary  of  War.  In 
the  evening  the  people  thronged  to  the 
White  House  and  to  the  ofiice  of  the 
War  Department,  and  congratulatory 
speeches  were  delivered  by  President 
Lincoln,  Secretaries  Stanton,  Seward, 
and  others.  As  a  reward  for  his 
services  on  the  Mississippi,  Porter 
was  promoted  to  the  full  rank  of  rear- 
admiral. 


HENRY  WADSWOR 


TH  LONGFELLOW. 


The  biograpLy  of  a  poet  is  in  gene- 
ral little  more  than  an  inventory  of  liis 
writings.  He  is  a  man  whose  world  is 
within,  who  must  have  quiet  to  write, 
and  whose  genius  tempts  him  to  per- 
petuate the  quiet  which  he  finds.  Sel- 
dom a  man  of  action,  his  migrations  are 
of  little  more  imjJbrtance  to  the  world 
at  large,  save  through  his  writings,  than 
those  of  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield  from  the 
l)lue  bed  to  the  brown.  Mr.  Longfellow, 
the  popular  poet  of  England  and  Amer- 
ica at  this  time,  is  no  exception  to  the 
rule.  The  incidents  of  his  life  are 
mainly  to  be  found  in  the  record  of  his 
mental  emotions  in  his  books.  There 
is  matter  abundant  and  voluble  enough, 
but  the  narrative  belongs  rather  to  the 
critic  than  the  biographer. 

Henry  Waclsworth  Longfellow  was 

born  at  Portland,  Maine,  February  27, 

1807.    His  father,  the  Hon.  Stephen 

Longfellow,  was  a  lawyer  of  distinction, 

a  man  of  influence,  highly  esteemed  by 

his  contemporaries.  The  son  was  sent  to 

Bowdoin  College  at  Brunswick,  where, 

in  due  time,  he  graduated  in  the  class 

with  Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  in  1825. 

Seldom  has  any  college  in  one  year  sent 

forth  to  the  world  two  such  ornaments 

of  literature.    At  that  early  period 

Mr.  Longfellow  was  addicted  to  verse 

making,  and  some  of  these  juvenile 
m 


poems,  written  before  the  age  of 
eighteen,  are  preserved  in  the  standard 
collection  of  his  writings.  They  are 
mostly  descriptive  of  nature.  There  is 
one  among  them,  a  "  Hymn  of  the  Mo- 
ravian Nuns  of  Bethlehem,  at  the 
Consecration  of  Pulaski's  banner," 
which  was  something  of  a  favorite 
when  it  appeared,  and  still  has  a  flavor 
akin  to  that  of  the  many  spirited,  pic- 
turesque little  poems  of  its  class  which 
the  author  has  since  written. 

Most  college  students  who  are  led 
on  to  pursue  literature  as  a  profession, 
raalce  their  entrance  to  it  after  a  pre- 
liminary turn  at  the  law.  The  transi- 
tion is  easier  from  that  profession  than 
from  the  others.  The  pulpit  and  the 
scalpel  are  apt  to  hold  on  to  their  ap- 
]3rentices,  but  the  profitless  tedium  of 
the  early  years  at  the  bar  supplies  a 
vacuum  into  which  anything  may  rush. 
Besides  to  some,  especially  those  of  a 
poetical  inclination,  the  study  is  posi- 
tively distasteful  The  dereliction  is 
embalmed  as  an  adage  in  one  of  Pope's 
couplets — 

The  clerk  foredoomed  his  father's  soul  to  cross, 
Who  pens  a  stanza  when  he  should  engross. 

We  are  not  aware  that  our  poet  had 
any  difiiculty  in  choosing  his  vocation. 
Probably  not,  for  he  fell  so  readily  and 


1 


HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 


445 


Lappily  iuto  tlie  habits  of  the  scholar 
that  all  must  have  acquiesced  in  his 
selection  of  the  calling.    He  was  only 
nineteen   in   fact  when   he  was  ap- 
pointed Professor  of  Modern  Languages 
at  liis  college  at  Brunswick,  and,  ac- 
cording to  a  judicious  custom  in  these 
New  England  seats  of  learning,  was 
granted  the  privilege  of  a  preliminary 
tour  in  Europe  to  qualify  himself  hand- 
somely for  the  post.    In  1826,  and  the 
two  following  years,  accordingly,  he 
made  the  tour  of  Europe,  plunging  at 
once  into  the  study  of  the  various  lan- 
guages where  they  are  best  learned, 
among  the  natives  of  the  country.  He 
visited  France,  Spain,  Italy,  Germany, 
Holland  and  England.     On  his  return 
he  lectured  at  Bowdoin  on  the  modern 
languages  he  had  acquired,  wrote  arti- 
cles for  the  "  North  American  Review," 
translated  with  great  felicity  the  exqui- 
site stanzas  of  the  Spanish  soldier  poet 
Manrique  on  the  death  of  his  father, 
and  penned  the  sketches  of  his  travels 
which,  with  a  little  romance  intermin- 
gled, make  up  his  pleasant  volume,  the 
first  of  his  collected  prose  works,  en- 
titled "Outre  Mer."    In  all  that  he 
did  there  was  a  nice  hand  visible,  the 
touch  of  a  dainty  lover  of  good  books, 
and  appreciator  of  literary  delicacies. 
The  quaint,  the  marvellous,  the  re- 
mote, the  'picturesque,  v/ere  his  idols. 
He  had  been  to  the  old  curiosity  shop 
of  Europe,  and  brought  home  a  stock 
of  antiquated  fancies  of  curious  work- 
manship, which,  with  a  little  modern 
burnishing,  would  well  bear  revival. 
They  were  henceforth  the  decorations 
of  his  verse,  the  ornaments  of  his 
prose.    Everywhere  you  will  find  in 
II.— 56 


his  writings,  in  his  own  phrase,  "some- 
thino;  to  tickle  the  imasrination  "  either 
of  his  own  conti'ivance,  or  credited  to 
the  ^vit  and  wisdom,  the  marrowy  con- 
ceits, of  an  antique  worthy.  From 
Hans  Sachs  to  Jean  Paul ;  from  Dante 
to  Filicaia;  from  Rabelais  to  Beranger; 
from  old  Fuller  to  Charles  Lamb,  the 
rare  moralists  and  humorists  were  at 
his  disposal.  He  was  never  at  a  loss 
for  a  happy  quotation,  and  he  who 
quotes  well  is  half  an  original.  His 
genius  and  benevolent  nature,  its 
kindly  fellow  worker,  supplied  the 
other  half  Such  was  the  promise  of 
"  Outre  Mer,"  a  bright,  fresh,  inviting 
book,  which  a  man,  taking  up  at  a 
happy  moment — and  every  book  re- 
quires its  own  happy  moment — would 
bear  in  mind,  and  look  out  for  the  next 
appearance  of  its  author  in  print. 

Then  came,  in  1835,  one  of  the  mi- 
grations from  the  blue  bed  to  the 
brown — the  Professor  of  Modern  Lan- 
guages at  Bowdoin  became  Professor 
of  Modern  Lano;ua2;es  and  Literature  at 
Harvard,  in  the  honorable  place  of  Mr. 
George  Ticknor,  resigned.  The  new 
appointment  generated  another  tour  in 
Europe,  and  this  time  the  professor" 
elect  chose  new  ground  for  his  travels. 
He  visited  a  region  then  rarely  tra- 
versed by  Americans.  He  went  to  the 
north  of  Europe,  presenting  himself  in 
Denmark  and  Sweden,  beside  a  pro-, 
tracted  stay  in  Holland,  and  a  second 
visit  to  Germany,  France  and  England 
— a  profitable  tour  for  his  studies,  but 
a  sad  one  to  the  poet's  heart,  for  at 
Rotterdam,  on  this  tour,  he  lost  his 
young  wife,  the  companion  of  his  jour- 
ney. 


446 


HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELOW. 


Retii riling  to  America  with  his  inti- 
macy with  his  beloved  German  authors 
refreshed  by  participation '  in  their 
home  scenes,  and  a  newly  acquired 
fondness  for  the  northern  sagas,  des- 
tined to  bear  vigorous  and  healthy 
fruit  in  his  writings,  he  commenced  his 
duties  at  Harvard.  He  removed  his 
household  gods,  his  "midnight  folios," 
to  Cambridge,  and  one  summer  after- 
noon, in  1837,  as  it  has  been  prettily 
set  forth  by  his  friend  Curtis — "  the 
Howadji,"  in  his  sketches  of  the  Homes 
of  American  Authors — established  him- 
self as  a  lodger  in  the  old  Cragie  house, 
whilom  the  celebrated  head-quarters  of 
General  Washington  in  the  Revolution. 
The  house  had  a  history;  it  was  the 
very  place  for  the  brain-haunted 
scholar  to  live  and  dream  in.  A 
stately  mansion  with  royalist  memories 
before  the  rebel  days  of  Washington, 
with  flavors  of  good  cheer  lingering 
about  its  cellars,  and  shadowy  trains  of 
stately  damsels  flitting  along  its  halls 
and  up  its  wide  stairway.  The  place 
was  rich  with  traditions  of  wealthy 
merchants  and  costly  hospitalities,  nor 
had  it  degenerated,  according  to  the 
habit  of  most  honored  old  mansions,  as 
it  approached  the  present  day.  Vene- 
rable and  learned  men  of  Harvard,  still 
alive,  had  consecrated  it  by  their  studies. 
No  wonder  that  the  poet  professor  found 
there  his  "  coigne  of  vantage,"  and  made 
there  "  the  pendent  bed  and  procreant 
cradle"  of  his  quick-coming  fancies. 
Many  a  poem  of  his  goodly  volumes  has 
been  generated  by  the  whispers  of  those 
old  walls,  and  thence  came  forth  "  from 
his  still,  southeastern  upper  chamber,  in 
which  Washington  had  also  slept,"  the 


most  delectable  of  his  prose  writings, 
the  romance'  of  "  Hyperion." 

We  well  remember  the  impression 
this  work  made  on  its  appearance, 
about  1839,  with  its  wide-spread  type 
and  ample  margin,  and  the  pleasant  kind- 
ling thoughts  of  love,  and  the  beauty 
of  nature,  and  old  romantic  glories,  and 
quaint  Jean  Paul,  "the  only  one" — 
its  criticism  of  taste  and  the  heart. 
It  was  the  first  specimen  given  to 
America,  we  believe,  of  the  art  novel, 
and  a  fit  audience  of  youths  and 
maidens  welcomed  its  sweet  utterances. 
Everything  in  it  was  choice  and  fra- 
grant ;  the  old  thoughts  from  the  clois- 
tered books  were  scented  anew  with 
living  fragrance  from  the  mountains 
and  the  fields.  It  was  a  scholar's 
book  with  no  odor  of  the  musty  parch- 
ment or  smell  of  the  midnight  lamp. 
All  was  cheerful  with  the  gaiety  of 
travel ;  the  sorrow  and  the  pathos  were 
tempered  by  the  romance — and  over  all 
was  the  purple  light  of  youth. 

Then  came,  in  a  little  volume  of 
verse,  the  first  collection,  we  believe,  of 
the  author's  original  poems,  "  The 
Voices  of  the  Night,"  published,  at 
Cambridge  in  1839.  It  was  the  great- 
est hit,  we  think,  take  it  all  together, 
ever  made  by  an  American  poet,  for  it 
created  a  distinguished  poetical  reputa- 
tion at  a  single  blow.  Its  "Hymn  to 
the  Night,"  drawing  repose 

From  the  cool  cisterns  of  the  midnight  air ; 

its  "  Psalm  of  Life  " — what  the  heart  of 
the  young  man  said  to  the  Psalmist : 

Tell  me  not,  in  mournful  numbers, 

Life  is  but  an  empty  dream ! 
For  the  soul  is  dead  that  slumbers. 

And  things  are  not  what  they  seem. 


HENRY   WADSWORTII  LONGFELLOW. 


447 


Life  is  real !  life  is  earnest ! 

And  the  grave  is  not  its  goal ; 
Dnst  thou  art,  to  dust  returnest, 

Was  not  spoken  of  tlie  soul ! 

Not  enjoyment,  and  not  sorrow, 

Is  our  destined  end  or  way ; 
But  to  act  that  each  to-morrow 

Find  us  farther  than  to-day. 

Art  is  long  and  time  is  fleeting, 
And  our  hearts,  though  stout  and  hrave, 

Still,  like  muffled  drums  are  beating 
Funeral  marches  to  the  grave. 

In  the  world's  broad  field  of  battle. 

In  the  bivouac  of  life. 
Be  not  like  dumb,  driven  cattle ! 

Be  a  hero  in  the  strife ! 

Trust  no  Future,  howe'er  pleasant ! 

Let  the  dead  Past  bury  its  dead ! 
Act — act  in  the  living  Present ! 

Heart  within  and  God  o^ei'head ! 

Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us 
"We  can  make  our  lives  sublime, 

And,  departing,  leave  behind  us 
Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time  ; 

Footprints,  that  perhaps  another. 
Sailing  o'er  life's  solemn  main, 

A  forlorn  and  shipwrecked  brother, 
Seeing,  shall  take  heart  again. 

Let  us,  then,  be  up  and  doing. 

With  a  heart  for  any  fate ; 
Still  achieving,  still  pursuing. 

Learn  to  labor  and  to  wait. 

^'  The  Keaper  and  the  Flowers,"  "  The 
Light  of  Stars,"  "  The  Footsteps  of  An- 
gels :" 

When  the  hours  of  day  are  numbered, 

And  the  voices  of  the  Night 
Wake  the  better  soul  that  slumbered. 

To  a  holy,  calm  delight ; 

Ere  the  evening  lamps  are  lighted, 
And,  like  phantoms  grim  and  tall, 

Shadows  from  the  fitful  firelight 
Dance  upon  the  parlor  wall ; 

Then  the  forms  of  the  departed 

Enter  at  the  open  door ; 
The  beloved,  the  true-hearted, 

Come  to  visit  me  once  more. 


and,  with  others,  the  "  Midnight  Mass 
of  the  Dying  Year:" — these  all  at 
once  became  popular  favorites,  and  the 
echoes  of  their  praises  have  not  3'et 
died  away  from  the  lijps  of  their  first 
fair  admirers.  The  success,  doubtless, 
gave  the  poet  confidence — for,  to  sing 
from  the  heart,  the  hearts  of  others 
must  respond.  It  is  a  game  at  which 
there  are  two  parties,  the  poet  and  the 
public,  and  one  can  do  nothing  without 
the  other.  The  public  plighted  its 
faith  to  the  new  poet,  and  no  meddling 
critics  have  since  been  able  to  break 
the  alliance. 

Since  that  first  volume  appeared, 
many  others  have  followed  in  cream- 
colored  paper  and  the  brown  cloth  of 
Fields — sacred  to  poets— all  of  kindred 
excellence,  Ballads  with  Excelsior,  and 
the  lay  of  Nuremberg,  and  the  "  Belfry 
of  Bruges,"  Tegner's  pastoral,  "  Children 
of  the  Lord's  Supper,"  Poems  of  the 
"  Seaside  and  Fireside,"  "  Waifs  and 
Estrays,"  "The  Spanish  Student,"  a 
drama,  in  rapid  sequence.  Encouraged 
by  the  reception  of  these  generally 
brief  and  occasional  eiforts,  the  poet, 
in  184Y,  essayed  a  longer  flight  in  his 
elaborate  poem  "Evangeline,  A  Tale  - 
of  Acadie."  It  was  written  in  hexa- 
meters, a  bold  attempt  upon  the  public 
in  the  adaptation  of  a  classic  measure, 
but  greatly  differing  from  the  severe 
crabbed  verses  of  this  kind  which  Sir 
Philip  Sidney  sought  to  engraft  upon 
English  literature,  and  failed  in  attempt- 
ing. The  lines  of  Mr.  Longfellow  ai-e 
not  rugged,  nor  the  pauses  difficult  to 
manage.  On  the  contrary,  the  verse  is 
harmonious,  and,  if  there  be  any  defect, 
cloys  from  its  recurring  cadence  and 


448 


nEXRY  WADSWORTII  LONGFELLOW 


uniformity.  Goethe  liad  adopted  the 
nieasure  in  his  iiarrative,  semi-pastoral 
poem,  "Herman  and  Dorothea,"  the 
treatment  of  which  doubtless  sno;- 
gested  "  Evangeline."  Beyond  this  sanc- 
tion of  a  great  example,  the  American 
poem  ^vas  little  indebted  to  its  German 
predecessor.  The  theme  was  new  and 
striking,  singularly  adapted  to  the 
poet's  poAvers.  All  readers  know  the 
story,  and  few  have  not  admired  the 
beauty  of  the  descriptions,  the  pictur- 
esque manners  and  customs,  the  exqui- 
site tenderness  of  the  poem — a  tale  of 
wonderful  beauty  and  pathos,  of  a  rare 
setting  in  the  American  landscape.  It 
is  by  many  accounted  Mr.  Longfellow's 
happiest  work,  and  is  certainly  one  of 
the  most  inviting  and  best  sustained  of 
his  compositions,  felicitous  alike  in  sub- 
ject and  execution. 

To  "  Evangeline,"  in  1849,  succeeded 
"  Kavanagh,"  a  tale  in  prose,  a  New 
England  idyll.  The  hero  is  a  poetical 
clergyman,  Avho  attracts  all  the  beauty 
and  refinement  of  the  village,  unless 
the  interest  which"  he  creates  is  divided 
with  the  schoolmaster  Churchill.  There 
is  much  that  is  pleasant  in  the  manner 
of  the  piece,  which  has  a  gentle  humor 
everywhere  lighted  up  by  a  poetical 
fancy. 

The  "  Golden  Legend,"  a  bundle  of 
poems  tied  by  a  silken  string,  carrying 
us  into  the  very  heart  of  the  middle 
ages,  was  the  next  production  of  Mr. 
Longfellow's  muse.  It  appeared  iu 
1851,  was  well  received,  perhaps  not 
as  closely  taken  to  the  popular  heart 
as  "  Evano-eline  " — but  that  could 
not  be  expected  with  a  more  remote 
scholastic  subject.    It  displays  a  great 


deal  of  readinci:  with  much  learned  in- 
genuity.  The  invention,  curious  and 
felicitous,  admits  of  and  receives  very 
wide  illustration  throus-hout  the  medi- 
seval  world  of  Europe,  its  religion,  its 
arts,  its  schools,  its  government. 

The  "  Golden  Leo-end  " — we  thus 
chronicled  it  on  its  first  appearance — is 
a  volume  of  three  hundred  pages  of  po- 
etical thoughts  and  fancies  strung  upon 
the  thread  of  a  simple  ballad  incident 
of  a  knight  who  grew  very  unhappy 
in  the  world  on  account  of  wickedness 
and  melancholy,  with  no  better  pros- 
pect for  recovery,  after  a  j)retty  vigor- 
ous course  of  church  discipline,  than 
the  luck  of  some  maiden's  offering  up 
her  life  for  him — a  prescription  of  tlie 
learned  Italian  doctors  of  Salern.  Such 
a  maiden  does  present  herself,  one  of 
his  forest  peasantry,  and,  as  the  prince 
belongs  to  the  Rhine,  and  the  event  is 
to  come  off  in  Italy,  a  journey  through- 
out Europe  is  the  consequence.  With 
constant  variety,  as  one  topic  is  deli- 
cately touched  upon  after  another,  we 
are  most  agreeably  entertained  with 
forest  scenes,  town  scenes,  priestly  cere- 
monies, learned  arts,  the  sanctities  of 
the  cloister,  its  profanities,  quaintly 
narrated  in  a  species  of  rhyme  which 
is  neither  heroic  nor  commonplace,  but 
singularly  in  consonance  with  the  half- 
earnest,  half-ludicrous  associations  of 
the  subject.  Lucifer,  a  la  Mepldsto 
]?liiles,  is  employed  as  a  mocking  spirit, 
inspiring  evil  suggestions,  a  delighted 
showman  of  evil  scenes.  Walter  de 
Vogelweide,  the  Minnesinger,  enters 
with  a  melodious  rustling  of  his  gar- 
ments. A  Mystery  of  the  Nativity,  a 
fine  bit  of  scholarship  of  that  olden 


HENRY  WADSWORTII  LONGFELLOW. 


419 


time,  is  celebrated  at  Strasbiirg.  The 
grim  leg-end  of  Macaber  is  painted  on 
tlie  walls  as  the  monks  revel  in  the 
refectories.  The  School  of  Saleru 
thickens  Avith  strano-e  forms  of  livino; 
and  dying.-  These  are  the  outward 
circumstances  and  decorations  of  a  tale 
of  passion,  the  object  of  which  is  the 
evolution  of  immortal  affection.  The 
catastrophe  is  of  course  the  marriage 
of  the  prince  and  the  peasant  girl,  and 
a  happy  return  to  the  hereditary  castle 
on  the  Rhine. 

Four  years  later,  in  1855,  the  poet 
made  another  venture  in  a  novel  w£ilk 
of  composition.  The  "Song  of  Hia- 
watha," a  collection  of  legends  of 
the  North  American  Indians,  in  tro- 
cliaic  octosyllabic  measure,  fell  strangely 
upon  American  ears.  The  book  was 
hardly  launched,  when,  from  every 
quarter  of  the  heavens,  the  winds  of 
criticism  blew  over  the  agitated  lite- 
rary sea  upon  the  apparently  devoted 
bark.  Eurus  and  Notus,  and  squally 
Africus,  rushed  together  and  rolled 
their  vast  billows  of  hostile  denuncia- 
tion upon  the  publisher's  counter.  But 
propitious  Venus  held  her  guardian 
course  aloft  and  Neptune  reared  his 
placid  head  above  the  tempestuous 
waters.  In  a  fortnight  the  loud  blast 
of  the  critics  was  reduced  to  a  piping 
treble ;  indignation  subsided  to  laugh- 
ter, and  laughter  gave  place  to  an  old 
knack  of  affection,  which  the  public  has 
always  shown  for  its  favorite.  The  only 
crime  of  Hiawatha  was  its  novelty,  its 
originality.  The  olive  was  liked  after 
it  was  tasted.  The  legends  once  read, 
were  read  again,  and  the  trochaics  were 
eclioed  in  a  thousand  parodies.  The 


story  of  the  reception  of  the  book  is  one 
of  the  curiosities  of  American  literature. 

The  materials  of  the  volume  were 
rescued  from  the  Dryasdusts  and  anti- 
quarians, like  Tennyson's  legends  of 
King  Arthur's  Court,  to  be  preserved 
in  a  gallery  of  enduring  beauty.  The 
task  of  the  American  writer  was  the 
more  difficult  of  the  two,  in  the  appa- 
rent intractability  of  the  subject.  The 
fancies  of  the  American  savage,  painted 
on  the  mists  of  their  meadows,  and  in 
the  shadows  of  their  forests,  have  a 
vagueness  and  unreality,  too  slight  and 
vanishing  even  for  verse.  These  wild, 
airy  nothings  were  hardly  food  sub- 
stantial enough  for  a  poet's  dream.  To 
catch  and  cage  them  in  verse  was  a 
master's  triumph. 

"The  Courtship  of  Miles  Standish," 
published  in  1858,  followed.  It  is  a 
return  to  the  measure,  the  tilting  hexa- 
meters, of  "  Evangeline,"  celebrating  an 
anecdote  of  love  and  beauty  with  the 
moral  of  a  grim  old  suitor  employing 
youth  in  his  service  as  an  agent  to  en- 
trap for  him  the  gentle  heart  of  woman- 
hood. The  warrior  achieved  many 
triumphs  in  his  day  over  rebels  and 
Indians,  but,  stern  Achilles  as  he  was,  - 
he  had  to  yield  his  lovely  Briseis. 

Fair  Priscilla,  the  Puritan  girl,  in  the  solitude  of  the 

forest, 

Making  the  humble  house  and  the  modest  apparel  of 
home-spun 

Beautiful  with  her  beauty,  and  rich  with  the  wealth 
of  her  being, 

Was  not  for  him,  but  for  John  Alden,  the  fair-haired 
taciturn  stripling. 

That  is  the  whole  moral,  and  quaintly 
and  picturesquely  is  it  set  forth  in  the 
historic  costume  of  tlie  period  of  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers. 


450 


HENRY  WADSWORTH  LONGFELLOW. 


These,  witli  the  addition  of  a  collec- 
tion of  translations  by  others  of  "  The 
Poets  and  Poetry  of  Europe,"  and  a 
few  "Poems  on  Slavery,"  dated  1842, 
embrace,  we  believe,  the  whole  of  Mr. 
Longfellow's  acknowledged  writings  to 
the  present  time.  The  same  general 
characteristics  run  throu2;h  them  :  a 
learned,  exuberant  fancy,  prodigal  of  im- 
agery ;  a  taste  for  all  that  is  delicate  and 
refined,  pure  and  elevated  in  nature  and 
art ;  a  skillful  adaptation  of  old  world 
sentiment  to  new  world  incidents  and 
impressions ;  a  heightened  religious  fer- 
vor as  his  muse  transcends  things  tem- 
poral, aod  reaches  forward  to  the  things 
which  are  eternal.  The  gentle  ministry 
of  poetry,  fertile  in  consolation,  has  sel- 


dom soothed  human  sorrow  in  more 
winning,  pathetic  tones  than  have  fallen 
from  the  lips  of  this  amiable  bard,  ever 
delighting  and  instructing  his  race. 

It  is  now  some  years  since  Ms.  Long- 
fellow resigned  his  professorship  at 
Harvard,  to  be  succeeded  by  another 
disciple  of  the  muses,  the  accomplished 
poet,  Lowell ;  but  he  still  continues  to 
breathe  the  old  atmosphere  in  the 
house  of  Washington,  cheered  amid 
the  trials  of  life  by  the  affections  of  his 
countrymen,  and  of  those  who  read 
the  English  language  throughout  the 
world.  There  are  few  men  whom 
America  has  so  delighted  to  honor; 
there  are  none  who  have  better  de- 
served the  happy  privilege. 


J  dims  01 1 ,       &  Co.  Pulli  sihsL  K .  New  Yb  rlv . 


ii 


i 


WILLIAM  STARK  ROSECRANS. 


Major- General  Rosecrans,  of  the 
United  States  Army,  was  born  in 
Kingston,    Delaware    Conuty,  Ohio, 
September  6,  1819.    Of  Prussian  de- 
scent, the  ftimily  were  among  the  early 
emigrants,  by  way  of  Holland,  to  the 
Dutch  settlement  of  New  Netherlands, 
on  the  Hudson,  out  of  which  grew  the 
l^rosperous  colony  of  New  York.  The 
parents  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch, 
natives  of  Pennsylvania,  after  their 
marriage  removed  to  Ohio,  where  the 
father,  an  enterprising  farmer  and  man 
of  business,  renowned  for  his  integrity, 
acquired  a  high  character  for  his  in- 
fluence in  the  region.    He  served  in 
the  War  of  1812,  as  adjutant  to  a 
company  of  horse,  under  General  Har- 
rison.    His  son  William  was  intro- 
duced in  his  boyhood  to  the  precocious 
activity  of  the  frontier.     "At  thir- 
teen," we  are  told,  "he  had  become 
quite  a  man  upon  the  farm,  and  at 
fourteen  was  sent  to  the  store  of  one 
David  Messenger,  seven  miles  from  his 
home,  to  close  up  the  business,  which 
he  did  successfully.    At  times  he  acted 
as  book-keeper  in  the  store,  collected 
debts,  and  for  some  months,  in  1837, 
was  clerk  in  a  clothing  store."^    It  was 
in  this  year,  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 

'  An  interesting  memoir,  in  "  Annals  of  the  Army  of  the 
Cumherl-uid,"  by  an  officer.    Philadelphia,  1863. 


that  he  received  an  appointment  to  the 
Military.  Academy  at  West  Point,  from 
which  institution  he  graduated,  with 
good  standing  as  a  student,  in  1842, 
when  he  began  his  military  career  as 
second-lieutenant  of  engineers.  After 
serving  for  a  time  in  this  capacity  at 
Fortress  Monroe,  he  was  employed  for 
several  years  at  West  Point  as  Assistant 
Professor  of  Philosophy  and  of  Engi- 
neering.   From  1847  to  1852  he  had 
charge  of  the  construction  of  the  har- 
bor fortifications  at  Newport,  Rhode 
Island,  after  which  he  was  assigned  to 
special  duty  as  constructing  engineer 
at  the  Washington  Navy  Yard.  In 
this  capacity  his  ingenuity  and  scien- 
tific resources  proved  of  eminent  use- 
fulness ;  his  health  failing,  however,  he 
was  obliged  to  ask  for  leave  of  absence, 
and  presently  to  retire  from  the  service. 
The  Government  reluctantly  accepted 
his  resignation,  when,  in  the  spring'  of 
1854,  he  established  himself  in  Cincin- 
nati as  an  architect  and  consulting^  en- 
gineer.    The  next  year  he  was  induced 
to  take  charge  of  the  interests  of  an 
English  and  American  coal  company 
in  Kanawha  County,  Virginia,  an  un- 
dertaking which  he  conducted  with  his 
accustomed  scientific  ability,  surveying 
the  region,  and  reporting  various  plans 
of  improvement.    It  was  from  his  prac- 

461 


452 


WILLIAM  STARK  ROSECRANS. 


tical  knowledge,  gained  in  these  pur- 
suits, that  he  -was  led  to  engage  in 
business  at  Cincinnati  as  a  manufac- 
turer of  coal  oil,  for  which  he  set  up  an 
extensive  establishment.  "His  first 
partner  failing  to  make  a  marketable 
article,  General  Rosecrans,"  as  we  are 
informed  in  the  narrative  already  cited, 
"  determined  to  try  it  himself,  and,  ac- 
cordingly, entered  the  laboratory  and 
began  a  series  of  experiments  with  a 
view  to  the  manufacture  of  a  pure  and 
odorless  oil.  After  sixteen  days'  labor, 
he  had  about  succeeded  in  his  efforts, 
when  he  was  terribly  burned  by  the 
combustion  of  benzole  gas,  caused  by 
using  what  was  then  supposed  to  be 
a  patent  safety-lamp.  Although  his 
clothes  and  flesh  were  .badly  burned, 
he  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  make 
such  dispositions  that  the  fire  was  ex- 
tinguished without  injury  to  the  works. 
He  then  walked  home — a  mile  and  a 
half — and  took  to  his  bed,  where  he 
lay  nearly  eighteen  months,  and  for  a 
time  it  was  doubtful  whether  he  could 
recover."  At  the  end  of  this  period 
of  sufferino;  he  was  enabled  to  resume 
his  business,  which  had  necessarily  suf 
fered  from  his  absence,  and  was  en- 
gaged in  this  pursuit  when  the  Rebel- 
lion summoned  all  persons  of  military 
experience  to  the  field. 

Rosecrans  was  not  the  man  to  avoid 
such  an  appeal.  Accordingly  we  find 
him  early  engaged  in  the  service  of 
Ohio,  under  Grovernor  Dennison,  making 
arrano-ements  for  the  oro^anization  and 
equipment  of  the  State  troops.  He  had 
just  been  commissioned  colonel  of  the 
twenty-third  Ohio  regiment,  when 
he  received  from  Washington  the  ap- 


pointment which  he  had  solicited,  of 
brigadier-general  of  volunteers  in  tlie 
national  service.    Reporting  himself, 
according  to  orders,  to  General  McClel- 
Ian,  he   entered  at  once  with  that 
ofiicer  upon  the  campaign  in  West- 
ern Virginia,  which  led,  on  the  9th  of 
July,  1861,  to  the  Battle  of  Rich  Moun- 
tain.  In  this  engagement  General  Rose- 
crans bore  the  prominent  part.  The 
enemy,  it  will  be  remembered,  with 
about  two  thousand  men,  commanded 
by  Colonel  Pegram,  were  holding  the 
Beverley  Road,  at  the  foot   of  the 
mountain,  a  pass  of  the  main  channel 
of  communication  between  Eastern  and 
Western  Virginia,    To  secure  this  po- 
sition and  get  in  the  rear  of  the  main 
rebel  force  in  this  region,  under  Gene- 
ral Garnett,  was  now  the  object  of 
General  McClellan.     On  approaching 
the  enemy's  camp  it  was  ascertained 
that  a  path  led  over  the  mountain  on 
their  left  to  the  summit  commanding 
their  position.    General  Rosecrans  was 
ordered  forward  to  make  the  attack 
from  this  point,  when  General  McClel- 
lan would  advance  in  front  and  secure 
the  victory.     Setting   out  at  dawn, 
marching  his  forces  through  the  w^oods 
in  a  driving  rain.  General  Rosecrans 
came  upon  the  entrenched  outpost  of 
the  enemy  in  the  afternoon,  when  a 
sharp  contest  occurred,  ending  in  driv- 
ing them  from  their  position  with  the 
loss  of  two  guns.    That  night  he  held 
the  battle-field,  overlooking  the  rebel 
camp,  while  General  McClellan  was 
preparing  for  an  attack  by  the  road. 
The  enemy  thus  invested  did  not  wait 
the  next  day's  assault,  but  before  morn- 
ing "began  a  retreat,  in  which  they  were 


WILLIAM  STARK  ROSECRANS. 


463 


interrupted  by  General  Rosecrans,  who 
ca]iiiired  their  camp  equipage  and  a 
large  number  of  prisoners. 

Their  remaining  force  after  this  was 
rapidly  dispersed,  General  McClellan 
was  immediately  called  to  the  command 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  and  Gene- 
ral Rosecrans  left  to  conduct  operations 
in  Western  Virginia.    In  September 
his  command  was  again  in  action  in  an 
advance  upon  General  Floyd's  force  on 
the  Gauley  Eiver,  at  Carnifex  Ferry. 
On  reaching  the  enemy,  after  a  rapid 
march,  on  the  tenth,  the  engagement 
began  in  the  afternoon  in  a  reconnois- 
sance  of  their  position,  which  would 
have  been  succeeded  by  an  assault  had 
not  darkness  prevented.    That  night 
General  Floyd  escaped  across  the  river, 
destroying  the  bridge,  and  thus  secur- 
ing his  retreat.    The  month  of  Novem- 
ber, after  various  military  evolutions, 
found  both  parties  in  array  in  the 
region  at  the  head  of  the  Kanawha 
Valley,  bounded  by  the  New  and  Gau- 
ley Rivers.     General  Rosecrans  held 
the  right  bank  of  the  New  River,  Gene- 
ral Floyd  the  left.    Dispositions  were 
skillfully  made  by  the  former  for  the 
passage  of  the  river  and  the  capture  of 
the  foe,  who  again  fled  at  the  near  ap- 
proach of  the  Union  forces.   The  year's 
campaign,  in  the  words  of  General 
Rosecrans'  address  to  his  troops,  closed 
with  "  the  substantial  fruits  of  victory. 
"Western  Virginia  belongs  to  herself, 
and  the  invader  is  expelled  from  her 
soil" 

General  Rosecrans  remained  in  com- 
mand in  Western  Virginia,  actively 
employing  the  limited  resources  at  his 
disposal,  anxiously  seeking  to  coope- 
n.— 57 


rate  with  the  main  Army  of  the  Poto- 
mac, till,  in  the  spring  of  1862,  he  was 
superseded,  by  the  creation  of  the  Moun- 
tain Department,  assigned  to  General 
Fremont.  In  May  he  was  ordered  to 
report  to  General  Halleck,  then  before 
Corinth,  Mississippi,  and  arrived  at  this 
new  theatre  of  operations,  in  which  he 
was  destined  to  be  so  conspicuous,  in 
time  to  participate  in  the  capture  of 
that  stronghold  of  the  enemy.  When, 
in  the  following  month,  General  Pope 
was  called  to  Vii^ginia,  General  Rose- 
crans succeeded  to  the  command  of 
his  army  corps  ia  the  department.  The 
division  was  known  as  the  Army  of  the 
Mississippi.  In  September  it  was  called 
upon  to  resist  the  advance  of  a  large 
Confederate  force,  under  General  Price,  ' 
who  was  operating  to  assist  the  move- 
ment of  General  Bragg  upon  Kentucky. 
General  Rosecrans,  from  his  head-quar- 
ters near  Corinth,  went  forward  and 
victoriously  met  the  enemy  at  luka. 

General  Rosecrans  now  strengthened 
his  position  at  Corinth,  diligently  for- 
tifying and  preparing  for  the  enemy, 
who  were  gathering  their  forces  for  a 
renewed  attack.    Price  was  joined  by 
Van  Dorn,  and  the  positions  of  Grant  ' 
in  Tennessee  and  Rosecrans  in  Missis- 
sippi were  alike  threatened.    It  was 
the  expectation  of  the  latter,  that  the 
enemy,  masking  his  strong  position, 
would  advance  to  the  north,  when  he 
could  give  battle  and  cut  off  their  re- 
treat.   Their  intention,  however,  was 
to  attack  Corinth,  which,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  favorable  condition  of  the 
country  in  the  dry  season,  they  ap- 
proached by  way  of  Chewalla.  They 
came  up,  were  met  by  the  Union  army 


454 


WILLIAM  STARK  ROSECRANS. 


on  tlie  3d  aud  4tli  of  October,  and 
were  signally  defeated. 

Immediately  after  this  second  battle 
of  Corinth,  General  Rosecrans  was 
assigned  to  the  command  of  the  new 
Department  of  the  Cumberland,  with 
its  field  of  operations  in  Central  Ten- 
nessee. Carefully  restoring  the  lines 
of  communication  which  had  been 
broken  in  the  recent  invasion  of  Ken- 
tucky, he  advanced  from  the  latter 
State  and  established  his  head-quarters, 
in  November,  at  Nashville.  There,  in 
his  camp  before  the  city,  he  devoted 
himself,  wdth  his  usual  assiduity,  to  the 
organization  and  equipment  of  the  re- 
cent levies,  of  wliich  his  force  was 
largely  composed — in  fact,  to  the  crea- 
tion of  an  army.  When  his  communi- 
cations were  fully  established,  sufficient 
supplies  secured,  and  his  army  in  con- 
dition, at  the  end  of  December  he  re- 
solved upon  a  forward  movement 
against  the  enemy,  who,  under  the 
command  of  General  Bragg,  were  en- 
camped in  various  positions  in  front  of 
Murfreesboro,  about  thirty  miles  south- 
east of  Nashville.  The  Union  army, 
numbering  in  all  about  forty-seven 
thousand,  of  which,  only  about  three 
thousand  were  cavalry,  began  its  ad- 
vance on  the  morning  of  the  26th  of 
December,  by  different  roads,  in  three 
divisions,  under  Generals  McCook,  Tho- 
mas, and  Crittenden.  On  the  thirtieth, 
after  heavy  skirmishing  by  the  way, 
the  several  divisions  had  succeeded  in 
occupying  positions  immediately  in 
front  of  the  enemy,  whose  forces  were 
now  drawn  up  in  a  line  about  three 
miles  in  length,  extending  from  the 
Stono  Kiver,  irregularly,  to  the  south- 


west, and  being  about  two  miles  dis- 
tant from  Murfreesboro,  the  river  wind- 
ing between.  The  hostile  fronts  were, 
for  the  most  part,  within  half  a  mile 
apart.  General  McCook  held  the  Union 
right,  Thomas  the  centre,  and  Critten- 
den the  left.  It  was  the  plan  of  Gene- 
ral Rosecrans  to  hold  the  force  engaged 
which  was  opposed  to  his  right  and 
centre,  while  Crittenden,  on  his  left, 
was  to  cross  the  river  by  a  ford,  attack 
the  division  of  Breckinridge  in  that 
quarter,  and  open  a  way  to  Murfrees- 
boro. The  rear  of  the  Confederate 
army  would  thus  be  gained,  when  a 
vigorous  movement,  on  both  sides, 
might  be  expected  to  rout  it  utterly. 
This  calculation  was  defeated  in  the 
action  of  the  following  day,  by  the 
enemy  massing  his  troops  on  his  left, 
attacking  McCook's  forces  on  the  Union 
right,  one  division  of  which  after  an- 
other was  compelled  to  retire  before 
the  resistless  shock.  The  main  effort 
of  General  Rosecrans  was  thus  turned 
to  repair  this  disaster  and  meet  the  foe, 
by  bringing  up  and  strengthening  his 
centre.  The  left  of  the  right  wing  was 
thus  relieved  of  pressure.  The  artil- 
lery was  advantageously  placed,  in- 
flicting heavy  losses  upon  the  foe,  who 
quailed  before  it.  The  enemy  was  re- 
pulsed from  the  new  line,  the  original 
position  on  the  left  being  undisturbed. 
Thus  closed  the  31st  of  December. 
"  We  had  lost  heavily,"  says  General 
Rosecrans  in  his  report,  "  in  killed  and 
wounded,  and  a  considerable  number  in 
stragglers  and  prisoners ;  also  twenty- 
eight  pieces  of  artillery,  the  horses 
having  been  slain,  and  our  troops  being 
unable  to  withdraw  them  by  hand  over 


WILLIAM  STARK  ROSECRANS. 


455 


the  roiigli  ground ;  but  the  enemy  had 
been  roughly  handled  and  badly  da- 
maged at  all  points,  .  .  .  Orders 
were  given  for  the  issue  of  all  the 
spare  ammunition,  and  we  found  that 
we  had  enough  for  another  battle,  the 
only  question  being  where  that  battle 
was  to  be  fought." 

Armed  with  this  resolution,  General 
Kosecrans  still  retaining  his  hold  on 
the  river,  retired  a  portion  of  his  left 
to  more  advantageous  ground,  and  so 
shillfally  were  his  dispositions  made 
that  two  demonstrations  made  by  the 
enemy  the  next  day,  the  1st  of  January, 
were  readily  repulsed.  On  the  second 
there  was  another  attack  by  the  foe 
upon  a  portion  of  Crittenden's  division, 
which  had  crossed  the  river,  which  was 
compelled  to  retire  when  that  general 
brought  his  batteries  to  bear  from  the 
west  side  of  the  river,  with  fearful  effect. 
"The  firing,"  says  General  Rosecrans, 
"was  terrific,  and  the  havoc  terrible. 
The  enemy  retreated  more  rapidly  than 
they  had  advanced;  in  forty  minutes 
they  lost  two  thousand  men."  Some 
important  advantage  was  also  gained 
on  the  enemy's  left  flank.  Night  and 
a  storm  of  rain  prevented  their  being 
pursued  into  Murfreesboro.    The  next 


day  a  heavy  rain  impeded  army  move- 
ments, but  there  was  some  sharp  skir- 
mishing, showing  the  unabated  spirit 
of  the  Union  troops.    Sunday  morning, 
the  4th  of  January,  says  General  Rose- 
crans,  "it  was  not  deemed  advisable 
to  commence  offensive  movements,  and 
news  soon  reached  us  that  the  enemy 
had  fled  from  Murfreesboro.  Burial 
parties  were  sent  out  to  bury  the  dead, 
and  the  cavalry  was  sent  to  recon- 
noitre."   The  severely  contested  battle 
was  ended.    In  these  engagements  flilly 
one-fifth  of  the  entire  Union  force  in 
action  was  killed  or  wounded.  The 
enemy,  according  to  a  calculation  made 
by  General  Rosecrans,  numbered  ,about 
a  third  more  than  his  own  forces,  and 
suffered  in  a  still  greater  proportion. 
Well  might  the  Union  commander-in- 
chief,  with  a  piety  characterizing  his 
disposition,  exclaim:   "With  all  the 
facts  of  this  battle  fully  before  me,  the 
relative  numbers  and  positions  of  our 
troops  and  those  of  the  rebels,  the  gal- 
lantry and  obstinacy  of  the  contest, 
and  the  final  result,  I  say,  from  convic- 
tion, and  as  a  public  acknowledgment 
due  to  Almighty  God,  in  closing  this 
report,  '  non  nobis,  Domine,  non  nobis, 
sed  nomine  tuo  da  gloriam.'  " 


ULYSSES    S.  GRANT. 


Majok-Gekeral  Ulysses  S.  Gea^tt, 
of  the  United  States  Army,  was  born 
at  Point  Pleasant,  Clermont  County, 
OWo,  April  27tli,  1822.  Entering  tlie 
Military  Academy  at  West  Point,  from 
his  native  State,  at  the  age  of  seven- 
teen, he  graduated  at  that  institution 
v^^ith  distinction  in  1843,  when  he  re- 
ceived the  brevet  appointment  of  se- 
cond-lieutenant in  the  fourth  infantry. 
The  Mexican  War  breaking  out  not 
long  after,  he  was  with  General  Taylor 
at  its  commencement,  in  Texas,  being 
promoted  second-lieutenant  at  Corpus 
Christi,  in  September,  1845.  As  the 
army  advanced  he  served  with  his  regi- 
ment in  the  campaign  on  the  Rio 
Grande,  in  the  summer  of  1846,  through 
the  successive  engagements  at  Palo 
Alto,  Eesaca  de  la  Palma,  and  Mon- 
terey. Shortly  after  the  arrival  of  Gen- 
eral Scott  at  Vera  Cruz,  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  following  year  he  joined 
that  commander,  his  regiment,  with 
others,  having  been  withdrawn  from 
the  forces  of  General  Taylor  to  take 
part  in  the  expedition  against  the  capi- 
tal. He  was  with  the  army  of  General 
Scott  in  the  successive  battles  which 
marked  his  victorious  progress  to  the 
city  of  Mexico,  and  was  brevetted 
first-lieutenant  and  captain  for  gallant 
and  meritorious  conduct  at  Molino  del 

456 


Rey,  and  Chapultepec.  After  the  war 
he  was  promoted  to  a  captaincy  while 
on  duty  with  his  regiment  in  Oregon, 
in  1852.  In  the  summer  of  1854,  he 
resigned  his  commission  and  settled  in 
St.  Louis  County,  Missouri,  whence, 
in  1860,  he  removed  to  Galena,  Illinois, 
where  he  was  engaged  in  commercial 
pursuits  when  the  outbreak  of  the 
Great  Rebellion  again  summoned  him 
to  the  field.  He  immediately  offered  his 
services  to  Governor  Yates,  was  ap- 
pointed colonel  of  the  twenty-first  regi- 
ment of  Illinois  volunteers,  and  was 
at  once  employed  in  active  service  in 
Missouri. 

In  August,  1861,  he  was  created  a 
brigadier-general  of  volunteers,  his  com- 
mission dating  from  the  19th  of  May. 
He  was  now  placed  in  command  of  the 
district  of  south-eastern  Missouri,  at 
the  junction  of  the  Ohio  and  Missis- 
sippi Rivers,  with  his  head-quarters  at 
Cairo.  On  the  6th  of  November  he 
led  an  expedition  against  the  position 
of  the  enemy  at  Belmont,  opposite 
Columbus,  on  the  Mississippi.  Their 
camp  was  attacked  the  following  day, 
and  a  severe  engagement  ensued,  with 
heavy  losses  on  both  sides,  the  enemy 
remaining  masters  of  the  field.  He 
had  previously,  in  September,  on  the 
advance  of  the  rebels  to  Columbus. 


% 


il 


ULYSSES 

taken  military  possession  of  Paducali, 
at  tlie  nioutli  of  tlie  Tennessee  River,  in 
Kentucky — a  timely  proceeding  of  the 
utmost  importance.  The  command  of 
tlie  liver  was  tlius  gained,  tlie  enemy 
cut  off  from  their  valuable  river  com- 
munications by  the  Tennessee  and  the 
Cumberland,  and  the  means  secured  of 
carrying  on  the  brilliant  operations  of 
the  winter  campaign  of  1862,  in  the 
interior  on  the  southern  border  of  the 
State.  The  reduction  of  Fort  Henry,  a 
Confederate  stronghold  on  the  Tennes- 
see River,  was  one  of  the  first  fruits 
of  the  occupation  of  Paducah.  The 
joint  military  and  naval  expedition 
which  successfully  accomplished  this 
work  on  the  6th  of  February,  was  led 
by  General  Grant  and  Commodore 
Foote.  The  gun-boats  attacked  the  fort 
in  front  while  the  troops  landed  and 
made  a  detour,  coming  up  in  the  rear. 

Fort  Henry  was  taken  by  the  navy. 
In  the  9,ttack  on  Fort  Donelson,  on 
the  Cumberland,  which  immediately 
followed,  the  victory  was  gained  by 
the  army.  The  well-entrenched,  advan- 
tageous position  of  the  enemy  presented 
many  difficulties  ;  but  they  were  over- 
come by  the  energy  of  General  Grant 
and  the  officers  under  his  command, 
numbering  many  who  were  afterwards 
highly  distinguished  in  the  service. 
The  land  operations,  which  commenced 
on  the  12th  of  February,  were  con- 
tinued with  frequent  conflicts — the  gun- 
boats being  beaten  off  in  the  river  on 
one  of  the  days — till  the  morning  of  the 
sixteenth,  when  the  enemy,  having  been 
repulsed  in  their  attack  of  the  previous 
day,  and  a  decisive  advantage  gained 
by  the  Union  forces,  it  was  determined 


S.   GRANT.  457 

by  the  rebel  officers  in  command  to 
surrender  the  fort.  Generals  Pillow 
and  Floyd,  with  a  portion  of  the  garri- 
son, had  already  abandoned  the  works, 
leaving  General  Buckner  to  arrange 
the  terms  of  capitulation.  He  asked 
for  terms  and  an  armistice,  to  which 
General  Grant  replied,  "  No  terms  ex- 
cept unconditional  and  immediate  sur- 
render can  be  accepted.  I  propose  to 
move  immediately  on  your  works." 
The  situation  was  such  that  General 
Buckner  was  compelled  to  accept  the 
terms.  Ten  thousand  prisoners  conse- 
quently-laid down  their  arms,  and  the 
fort,  with  its  forty  cannon  and  vast 
quantities  of  stores  and  equipments, 
passed  into  the  hands  of  General  Grant. 
"  The  victory,"  said  he,  in  an  address  to 
his  troops,  "is  not  only  great  in  the 
effect  it  will  have  in  breaking  down  re- 
bellion, but  has  secured  the  greatest 
number  of  prisoners  of  war  ever  taken 
in  any  battle  on  this  continent."  For 
this  achievement.  General  Grant  was 
created  a  major-general  of  volunteers. 

Two  months  later,  occurred  the  bat- 
tle of  Pittsburgh  Landing,  on  the  Ten- 
nessee River,  in  the  immediate  ap- 
proach to  the  enemy's  position  at 
Corinth,  Mississippi.  It  was  brought 
on  by  the  enemy  on  the  6th  of  April, 
while  General  Grant,  who  was  in  com- 
mand, was  mustering  his  forces  and 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  General  Buell 
with  reinforcements.  The  first  day  of 
the  action  the  field  was  swept  by  the 
enemy,  and  the  Union  forces  driven  to 
the  river,  where  they  were  partially 
protected  by  the  gun-boats.  The  next 
day.  General  Buell's  army  and  other 
reinforcements  having  arrived,  the  con- 


458  "ULYSSES 

test  was  resumed,  and  after  a  series  of 
severe  contests,  tlie  enemy,  commanded 
by  Generals  A.  S.  Johnston  and  Beau- 
regard, was  routed  and  compelled  to 
retreat.  At  tlie  beginning  of  the  bat- 
tle, General  Grant  was  at  his  head- 
quarters at  Savannah,  but  hearing  of 
the  action,  immediately  reached  the 
ground,  and  was  engaged  on  the  field 
in  the  afternoon  rallying  his  broken 
divisions,  while  he  bore  a  cons]3icuous 
part  in  the  decisive  repulse  of  the  fol- 
lowing day.  General  Halleck,  the 
head  of  the  department,  presently 
taking  the  field,  General  Grant  became 
second  in  command. 

Subsequently,  after  the  evacuation 
of  Corinth  by  the  enemy,  when  General 
Halleck  was  called  to  Washington  as 
General-in-Chief,  General  Grant  was,  in 
September,  assigned  to  the  command 
of  the  Army  of  West  Tennessee.  The 
battles  of  luka  and  the  second  battle 
at  Corinth,  in  September  and  October, 
proved  the  successful  management  of 
his  department.  His  command  having 
been  greatly  increased,  he  established 
his  heaii-quarters,  in  December,  at 
Holly  Springs,  in  Mississippi,  and 
thenceforth  was  engaged  in  the  ardu- 
ous operations  in  that  State,  which 
for  many  months  employed  the  forces 
on  the  Mississippi,  till  final  victory 
crowned  their  efforts  in  the  capture 
of  Vicksburg,  with  its  garrison — a 
triumph  doubly  memorable  by  its 
association  with  the  day  of  Inde- 
pendence— the  full  surrender  being 
made  and  the  flag  raised  on  the  vaunted 
rebel  stronghold  on  the  4th  of  July, 
1863    The  campaign  of  General  Grant 


S.  GRANT. 

immediately  preceding  the  close  invest- 
ment of  the  city  gained  him  the  highest 
reputation  as  a  commander,  at  home 
and  abroad.  After  the  Union  forces 
had  been  disappointed  in  repeated 
efforts  to  take  the  city  with  its  for- 
midable works  by  direct  assault  or  rear 
approach.  General  Grant,  at  the  end  of 
April,  landed  a  force  on  the  Mississippi 
shore,  about  sixty  miles  below,  defeated 
the  enemy  at  Port  Gibson,  thus  turn- 
ing Grand  Gulf,  which  consequently 
was  abandoned  to  the  naval  force  on 
the  river;  advanced  into  the  interior, 
again  defeated  the  enemy  at  Kaymond, 
on  the  12th  of  May;  moved  on  and 
took  possession  of  Jackson,  the  capital 
of  the  State ;  then  marched  westward- 
ly  towards  Vicksburg,  defeating  the 
forces  of  General  Pemberton,  the  com- 
mander of  that  post,  sent  out  to  meet 
him,  at  Baker's  Creek,  and  again  at 
Black  River  Bridge.  All  this  was  the 
work  of  a  few  days,  the  eighteenth  of  the 
month  bringing  the  army  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of  Vicksburg,  in  cofnmand 
of  all  its  communications  with  the  inte- 
rior. The  siege  followed ;  it  was  con- 
ducted with  eminent  steadfastness  and 
ability,  and  terminated,  as  we  have 
stated,  in  an  unconditional  triumph. 
For  this  eminent  service.  General  Grant 
was  promoted  major-general  in  the 
regular  army. 

General  Grant  remained  in  his  de- 
partment of  the  Mississippi,  till,  in  Oc- 
tober, after  the  battle  of  Chickamauga, 
he  was  called  to  a  still  larger  command, 
being  placed  at  the  head  of  the  united 
armies  of  the  Cumberland,  Ohio,  and 
Kentucky. 


JoliuHun,  tVy  'ft  Co.  llibliBliwu.  NuwV^iOc 


/ 


I 


NATHANIEL    PRENTISS  BANKS. 


Nathaniel  Prentiss  Banks  was  horn 
at  the  manufectnring  town  of  Wal- 
thara,  Mass.,  January  30th,  1816.  His 
f;ither  was  overseer  of  a  cotton  mill,  and 
early  introduced  his  son  to  an  indus- 
trial employment  in  the  establishment, 
from  which  he  derived   his  familiar 
appellation — "  the  bobbin  boy."  With 
this  practical  species  of  education  he 
received  some  instruction  at  the  village 
school  in  the  elementary  branches  of 
knowledge.    The  training  was  slight, 
but  the  seed  sown  fell  in  no  reluctant 
soil.    The  youth  exhibited  a  fondness 
for  intellectual  pursuits,  and  profited 
by  the  means  everywhere  inviting  him 
in  a  New  England  atmosphere.  Join- 
ing a  dramatic  company  composed  of 
his  associates,  we  are  told  by  one  of 
his    biographers,  he   soon  displayed 
such  ability  in  that  direction  as  to  be 
offered  inducements  to  become  a  pro- 
fessional actor.    He  was  of  too  solid  a 
disposition,  however,  to  listen  to  such 
allurements,  and  preferred  a  less  attrac- 
tive calling.    He  learned  the  trade  of  a 
machinest,  and  worked  at  it  as  a  jour- 
neyman, in  Boston     He  also,  we  are 
told,  taught  an  evening  school  some 
time,  and  conducted  a  newspaper  at 
Waltham — thus  practising  the  two  pro- 
fessions of  schoolmaster  and  editor, 
which  have  been  at  the  basis  of  the 


advancement,  in  political  life,  of  many 
men  in  America.  In  addition  to  these 
multifarious  employments,  he  occasion- 
ally lectured  before  lyceums,  tempe- 
rance meetings,  and  political  gather- 
ino;s. 

Prom    this   varied    discipline  the 
young  man  emerged  into  political  life. 
His  first  ■  entrance  upon  a  career  in 
which  he  was  to  become  so  distin- 
guished, was  not  without  its  difficul- 
ties.   Six  times  he  was  a  candidate  of 
the  Democratic  party  for  representa- 
tive to  the  Massachusetts  Legislature, 
and  was   as   often  defeated.     On  a 
seventh  trial,  in  1849,  he  was  elected. 
He  held,  about  this  time,  under  the 
administration  of  President  Polk,  an 
office  in  the  Boston  Custom  House. 
Applying  himself,  meanwhile,  to  the 
study  of  the  law,  he  was  admitted  to 
the  bar  in  1850.    The  following  year 
he  was  chosen  Speaker  of  the  Lower 
House  of  the  Legislature,  and  in  1852, 
was,  by  a  coalition  of  the  Democratic 
with  the  Free-Soil   party,  elected  a 
member  of  the  national  House  of  Ee- 
presentatives.     In  1853  he  presided 
over  the  Convention  held  in  Massachu- 
setts for  the  revision  of  the  State  Con- 
stitution.    His    course    in  Congress 
marked  him  out  as  a  man  of  ability, 
and  gave  indications  of  the  future  poll- 

4sa 


460 


NATHANIEL  TRBNTISS  BANKS. 


tical  leader  of  the  Republican  party, 
"then  in  its  infancy.  A  second  time  lie 
had  the  good  fortune  to  secure  his 
election  to  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives, in  this  instance  by  a  union  of 
the  Know  Nothings  and  Republicans.- 
Then,  in  the  new  Congress  of  1855,  came 
the  protracted  struggle  for  Speaker, 
which,  battled  for  more  than  two 
months  and  in  more  than  a  hundred  bal- 
lotings,  resulted  in  his  election  to  that 
office.  The  courtesy  and  fairness  with 
which  he  performed  the  duty,  secured 
the  respect  of  all  parties.  A  third 
time  chosen  to  Congress,  he  resigned 
to  accept  the  office  of  Governor  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, to  which  he  was  elected  by 
the  American  and  Republican  party 
in  1857,  and  again  in  1858  ;  refusing  to 
become  again  a  candidate,  with  the 
desire  of  making  some  better  provision 
for  his  family,  he  removed  to  the  West, 
accepting  the  lucrative  position  of  Gen- 
eral Superintendent  of  the  Illinois  Cen- 
tral Railroad. 

The  election  of  President  Lincoln 
had  now  given  the  sanction  of  the  pub- 
lic to  the  principles  which  Governor 
Banks  had  advocated,  and  the  Rebellion 
of  the  South  was  bringing  them  to  a 
sharper  controversy  than  the  old  poli- 
tical agitations  of  Congress.  Mr,  Banks 
saw  clearly  the  nature  of  the  coming 
contest,  and  was  ready  to  take  the  field 
in  defence  of  his  faith.  He  offered  his 
services  in  the  war,  and  was  appointed, 
on  the  30th  May,  1861,  major-general 
of  volunteers.  His  first  duty  was,  as 
the  successor  of  General  Butler,  in  com- 
mand of  the  Department  of  Annapolis. 
In  the  unsettled  condition  of  Maryland, 
and  especially  of  its  capital,  where  he 


established  his  head-quarters,  it  was  a 
delicate  office  which  he  had  to  main- 
tain in  holding  the  State  steady  "to  its 
allegiance.  He  brought  to  the  task, 
however,  an  integrity  and  love  of  jus- 
tice— a  courtesy  blended  with  firmness, 
which  carried  him  through  all  difficul- 
ties. His  reform  of  the  Police  Depart- 
ment was  conducted  with  military  en- 
ergy, and  when,  after  the  battle  of  Bull 
Run,  he  was  called  to  active  service,  to 
take  command  at  Harper's  Ferry,  he 
left  his  department — so  far  as  his  efforts 
to  establish  order  were  concerned — in 
a  satisfactory  condition. 

General  Banks  was  in  command  on 
the  Upper  Potomac  during  the  pro- 
tracted interval  of  military  preparation 
which  succeeded,  and  in  the  following 
spring  of  1862,  on  the  reorganization 
of  the  army,  he  was  assigned  to  the 
command  of  the  fifth  corps.  In  the 
general  advance  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  he  led  the  way  in  the  occu- 
pation of  Plarper's  Ferry  and  the  lower 
portion  of  the  Valley  of  Virginia,  in 
concert  with  the  movement  of  General 
McClellan  upon  Manassas.  The  battle 
of  Winchester  was  fought  on  the  23d 
of  March,  by  a  portion  of  his  com- 
mand, under  General  Shields.  General 
Banks  immediately  followed  the  ene'my, 
pursuing  them  in  their  rapid  retreat  up 
the  valley  to  the  vicinity  of  Staunton. 
This  was  accomplished  by  the  middle 
of  April;  but  the  advantages  of  the 
movement  proved  less  than  had  been 
expected.  The  Union  troops  were  pre- 
sently withdrawn  nearer  their  base  of 
supplies,  to  Strasburgh,  and,  toward 
the  end  of  May  were  attacked  at  Front ' 
Royal  by  the  advance  of  Jackson's  and 


NATHANIEL  TRENTJSS  BANKS. 


Ewell's  force,  wLicli  was  sent  down  the 
valley  to  effect  a  diversion  to  prevent 
the  meditated  reinforcement  of  General 
McClellan's  army,  now  before  Rich- 
mond.   The  movement  was  made  with 
spirit  and  in  overwhelming  force,  com- 
pelling General  Banks  to  seek  safety 
from  utter  destruction  in  a  prudent  re- 
treat. This  he  accomplished  with  great 
skill,  anticipating  the  enemy  in  a  rapid 
movement  of  the  main  column  to  Win 
Chester,  whence,  after  a  sharp  engage 
menfc  with  a  portion  of  their  forces  in 
the  vicinity  of  that  place— the  most  for- 
midable of  several  encounters  on  the 
way — he,  without  delay,  hastened  on- 
ward, by  way  of  Martinsburg,  to  the 
Potomac.    The  column  arrived  at  the 
river  at  sundown,  on  the  evening  of  the 
25th  of  May,  forty-eight  hours  after  the 
first  news  of  the  attack  on  Front  Eoyal. 
It  ^  was  a  march  of  fifty-three  miles, 
thiii:y-five  of  which  were  performed  in 
one  day. 

In  August,  General  Banks  was  again 
in  action,  in  the  campaign  of  General 
Pope,  in  the  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain, 
on  the  line  of  the  railway,  beyond  Cul- 
pepper,  when  the  Union  troops  were 
again  confronted  by  the  forces  of  Ewell 
and  Jackson.    General  Banks  held  an 
important  position  a  few  miles  south 
of  Culpepper,  when  the  enemy,  on  the 
tenth,  advanced  to  Cedar  Mountain. 
The  ^  engagement   took  place  in  the 
evening  between  six  and  seven.  Gene- 
ral Banks  advancing  to  the  attack,  and 
was  continued  by  the  artillery  during 
the  night.    It  was  a  closely-contested 
battle,  both   sides  suffering  severely. 


461 


Throughout  the  campaign.  General 
Banks  rendered  most  efficient  and  faith- 
ful service. 

In  the   ensuing  autumn.  General 
Banks  was  employed  in  collecting  and 
organizing  an  expedition,  with  which 
he  set  sail  from  New  York  at  the  be- 
ginning of  December.    Its  destination, 
which  at  the  time  was  carefully  con- 
cealed, proved  to  be  New  Orleans, 
whither  General  Banks  was  sent  with 
a  considerable  force,  to  succeed  General 
Butler  in  command  of  the  Department 
of  the  Gulf,  with  a  view  of  carrying  on 
a  new  series  of  military  operations  in 
Mississippi,  Western  Louisiana,  and 
Texas.    Having  thoroughly  organized 
his  forces,  he  took  the  field  in  the 
spring  of  1863,  in  an  expedition  into  the 
Teche  region,  in  Louisiana,  west  of  the 
Mississippi.    The  enemy  were  routed 
in  several  engagements  in  April,  and 
important  conquests  effected,  cutting 
off  the  rebel  supplies  sent  to  Port 
Hudson,  to  which  General  Banks  next 
turned  his  attention.    This  advanta- 
geous position  had  been  fortified  with 
skill,  and  now  rivalled  Vicksburg,  as 
a  stronghold  of  the   enemy  on  'the 
river.     It  was   closely  invested  by 
General  Banks,  and  after  more  than 
two  months'  siege,  marked  by  severe 
fighting,    the    garrison  surrendered 
on  the  8th  of  July,  a  few  days  after 
the  fall  of  Vicksburg.      Thus  was 
effectually   accomplished   one  of  the 
prime  objects  of  General  Banks'  South- 
ern expedition,  the  long-desired  reopen- 
ing of  the  navigation  of  the  Missis- 
sippi. 


n.— 68 


ANDREW 


JOHNSON. 


Amokg  tlie  many  pulolic  men  in  tlie 
United  States  who  have  risen  to  dis- 
tinction from  humble  circumstances  by 
industry  and  natural  force  of  character, 
Andrew  Johnson  of  Tennessee,  by  for- 
tune and  position,  is  certainly  not  the 
least  noticeable.  Born  of  poor  parents, 
in  Kaleigh,  North  Carolina,  December 
29th,  1808,  he  was  apprenticed  in  his 
boyhood  to  a  tailor,  and  was  engaged 
in  this  occupation  in  South  Carolina 
till  the  age  of  seventeen.  He  subse- 
quently crossed  the  mountains  border- 
ing his  State  on  the  west,  travelling,  it 
is  said,  on  foot  with  his  wife,  and  es- 
tablished himself  at  Greenville,  Ten- 
nessee. Pursuing  there  a  life  of  indus- 
try, working  out,  meanwhile,  by  his 
own  exertions  the  problem  of  educa- 
tion— for  he  had  never  attended  school 
— he  prospered  in  the  world,  and  hav- 
ing a  disposition  to  public  life,  with  a 
talent  for  speaking,  he  soon  became 
known  SiS  Si  politician.  He  was  elected 
Mayor  of  Grreenville  in  1830,  was 
chosen  a  member  of  the  State  Legisla- 
ture in  1835,  and  of  the  State  Senate 
in  1841.  For  ten  years,  from  1843  to 
1853,  he  represented  his  district  in  the 
national  House  of  Representatives ;  in 
the  last-mentioned  year  being  elected 
Governor  of  the  State  of  Tennessee, 
and  again  in  1855.    In  1857,  crowning 


this  rapid  series  of  honorable  political 
promotions,  he  took  his  seat  as  United 
States  Senator  for  the  full  term  ending 
in  1863. 

A  man  of  the  people,  he  represented 
in  the  Senate  the  strongly-nurtured 
democratic  energy  and  instincts  of  the 
West,  identifying  himself  with  its  well- 
fare,  distinguishing  himself  particularly 
by  his  advocacy  of  the  Homestead  Bill, 
which  opened  the  unsettled  territory 
virtually  to  free  occupancy  by  the 
settler.  It  was  not  to  be  supposed 
that  such  a  man,  the  representative  of 
the  free  mountain  region  of  East  Ten- 
nessee, where  his  home  lay,  would 
have  much  sympathy  with  the  great 
Southern  Rebellion.  On  the  contrary, 
he  was,  in  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  one. 
of  the  foremost  to  oppose  its  first  mani- 
festations. In  that  memorable  session, 
in  the  closing  months  of  President 
Buchanan's  administration,  when  the 
Southern  members  were  abandoning 
their  posts,  preparatory  to  their  work 
of  treason,  he  stood  unmoved,  strenu- 
ously opposing  every  exhibition  of  dis- 
loyalty, and  calling  resolutely  on  all 
to  maintain  the  Constitution  and  the 
integrity  of  the  Union  as  the  secure 
and  only  basis  of  popular  rights.  His 
course  was  known  and  marked  by  the 
disloyal  in  his  own  State  and  else- 


ANDREW 

wLere.  The  mob  of  Mempliis,  during 
tLis  period,  in  proof  of  their  hostility, 
burnt  his  effigy,  and  ht  the  close  of 
the  session  he  was  directly  insulted 
and  threatened  with  violence  at  the 
railway  station,  at  Lynchburg,  Vir- 
ginia, while  on  his  way  homeward 
from  Washington.  Arrived  in  East 
Tennessee,  he  took  part  in  the  Union 
Convention  at  Greenville,  at  the  end 
of  May,  supporting  the  declaration 
of  grievances  which,  in  an  emphatic 
manner,  bore  witness  to  the  loyalty  of 
that  portion  of  the  State.  On  the  19th 
of  June  he  made  a  memorable  speech 
at  Cincinnati,  denouncing,  in  unmea- 
sured terms,-  the  iniquity  of  the  Ten- 
nessee Legislature,  in  procuring,  con- 
trary to  the  expressed  will  of  the 
people,  an  alliance  with  the  Southern 
Confederacy.  In  glowing  language  he 
summoned  all,  without  regard  to  old 
party  considerations,  to  come  to  the 
support  of  their  common  country,  and 
"  crush,  destroy,  and  totally  annihilate  " 
the  spirit  of  secession,  as  an  influence 
utterly  hostile  to  all  religious,  moral, 
or  social  organization.  "  It  is,"  said  he, 
"  disintegration,  universal  dissolvement, 
making  war  upon  everything  that  has 
a  tendency  to  promote  and  ameliorate 
the  condition  of  the  mass  of  man- 
kind." 

In  the  extra  session  of  Congress  in 
July,  he  reiterated  these  sentiments  in 
an  eloquent  speech  in  the  Senate,  char- 
acterizing the  war  upon  which  the 
country  had  entered  as  a  struggle  for 
tke  very  existence  of  tke  Grovernment 
against  internal  foes  and  traitors.  "  It 
is  a  contest,"  said  ke,  "  whether  a  people 


JOHNSON.  463 

are  capable  of  governing  themselves  or 
not.  We  have  reached  that  crisis  in 
our  country's  history,  and  the  time  has 
arrived  when,  if  the  Government  has 
the  power,  if  the  people  are  capable 
of  self-government,  and  can  establish 
this  great  truth,  that  it  should  be 
done."  Nothing  discouraged  by  the 
recent  disaster  to  the  national  army  at 
Bull  Run,  he  exclaimed  on  this  occa- 
sion, at  the  close  of  a  masterly  review 
of  the  political  situation  of  the  country, 
after  calling  on  the  Government  to 
redouble  its  energies  in  the  field,  "  We 
must  succeed.  This  Government  must 
not,  cannot  fall.  Thougk  your  flag 
may  have  trailed  in  tke  dust  let  it  still 
be  borne  onward ;  and  if  for  the  prose- 
cution of  this  war  in  behalf  of  the 
Government  and  the  Constitution,  it  is 
necessary  to  cleanse  and  purify  the 
banner,  let  it  be  baptized  in  fire  from 
the  sun  and  bathed  in  a  nation's  blood. 
The  nation  must  be  redeemed ;  it  must 
be  triumphant." 

In  the  months  which  followed.  Sena- 
tor Johnson  rendered  eminent  service 
by  kis  speeches  and  influence  to  the 
national  cause.  At  length,  in  the 
spring  of  1862,  the  Union  victories  in 
Tennessee  having  resulted  in  tke  mili- 
tary occupation  of  Naskville,  kis 
patriotism  was  rewarded  by  the  ap- 
pointment, witk  tke  rank  of  brigadier- 
general  of  volunteers,  of  military  Gover- 
nor of  Tennessee.  He  immediately,  in 
Marck,  1862,  entered  upon  tke  duties 
of  tkis  office,  wkick  ke  kas  continued  to 
disckarge,  tkrougk  many  vicissitudes  of 
public  affairs,  witk  firmness  and  discre- 
tion. 


WILLIAM  CUL 


LEN  BRYANT. 


William  Cullem-  Betant  was  born 
at  Cummington,  Hampshire  County, 
Massacliusetts,  November  3d,  1794. 
His  father.  Dr.  Peter  Bryant,  was  a  phy- 
sician whose  character  and  attainments 
are  spoken  of  with  high  respect.  He 
was  married  to  a  lady  "  of  excellent 
understanding;  and  hio;h  character,  re- 
markable  for  judgment  and  decision,  as 
for  faithfulness  to  her  domestic  duties." 
Of  an  active  mind.  Dr.  Bryant  was 
versed  in  literature  and  science,  and 
took  an  honest  pride  in  the  culture  of 
his  son,  who  exhibited  an  early  mental 
development.  In  one  of  the  poems  of 
the  mature  man,  the  "  Hymn  to  Death," 
written  in  1825,  after  celebrating  in  a 
lofty  strain,  the  moral  uses  of  the  King 
of  Terrors,  the  poet  turns  to  a  tribute 
to  the  memory  of  his  father : 

Alas !  I  little  thougtit  tliat  the  stern  power 

Whose  fearful  praise  I  sung,  would  try  me  thus 

Before  the  strain  was  ended.    It  must  cease — 

For  he  is  in  his  grave  who  taught  my  youth 

The  art  of  verse,  and  in  the  bud  of  life 

Offered  me  to  the  muses.    Oh,  cut  off 

Untimely !  when  thy  reason  in  its  strength, 

Eipened  by  years  of  toil  and  studious  search. 

And  watch  of  IsTature's  silent  lessons,  taught 

Thy  hand  to  practise  best  the  lenient  art 

To  which  thou  gavest  thy  laborious  days, 

And,  last,  thy  life.    And,  therefore,  when  the  Earth 

Received  thee,  tears  were  in  unyielding  eyes 

And  on  hard  cheeks,  and  they  who  deemed  thy  skill 

Delayed  their  death-hour,  shuddered  and  turned  pale 


"When  thou  wert  gone.    This  faltering  verse,  which 
thou 

Shalt  not,  as  wont,  o'erlook,  is  all  I  have 

To  offer  at  thy  grave — this — and  the  hope 

To  copy  thy  example,  and  to  leave 

A  name  of  which  the  wretched  shall  not  think 

As  of  an  enemy's,  whom  they  forgive 

As  all  forgive  the  dead. 

In  the  poem  "  To  the  Past,"  there  is 
another  allusion  of  similar  tenor.  From 
these  it  appears  that  the  son  traces' 
much  of  his  taste  for  literature  to  the 
example  and  encouragement  of  his 
parent.  His  very  childhood,  indeed, 
was  marked  by  great  precocity.  At 
ten,  we  are  told,  he  was  a  contributor 
of  verses  to  the  neighboring  "Hamp- 
shire Gazette,"  at  Northampton,  and 
judging  from  those  which  he  published 
a  very  few  years  after,  they  were, 
doubtless,  quite  respectable.  Besides 
this  home  cultui'e,  the  youth  received 
the  instructions  at  school,  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Snell,  of  Brookfleld,  and  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Hallock,  of  Plainfield,  Mass. 
He  was  prepared  by  their  care  for 
William's  College,  which  he  entered  as 
a  sophomore,  in  his  sixteenth  year,  in 
1810.  The  year  previously  to  this,  ap-' 
peared  a  thin  little  pamphlet  of  poems 
from  his  pen,  at  Boston,  entitled  "The 
Embargo ;  or  Sketches  of  the  Times. 
A  Satire.  The  second  Edition,  cor- 
I  rected  and  enlarged,  together  with  the 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 


465 


Spanish  Revolution  and  other  poems." 
The  prefiiee  to  the  leading  poem  bears 
date,  Cummington,  October  25th,  1808, 
and  the  rest  are  dated  still  earlier. 
The  poems,  therefore,  were  written  be- 
fore the  author  had  completed  his  four- 
teenth year,  a  remarkable  instance  of 
early  poetical   cultivation,  when  we 
consider  both  the  subject  matter  of  the 
poems  and  their  execution.    The  "  Em- 
bargo, a  Satire,"  as  its  title  suggests 
was  wi-itten  from  the  New  Ena:land 
Federal  point  of  view,  and  levelled  at 
that  monster,  in  the  eyes  of  all  devout 
persons  in  that  region — ^Thomas  Jeffer- 
son.   The  young  bard  mourns  the  de- 
cline of  commerce,  and  deprecates  the 
fate  of  the  country  thrown  into  the 
arms  of  France.    The  picture  of  the 
President  himself  is  sufficiently  per- 
sonal, but  it  is  by  no  means  more 
severe  than  what  older  rhymsters,  and 
even  grave  divines  from  their  pulpits 
were  saying.    That  a  mere  boy  should 
put  all  this  feeling  of  the  times  into 
three  or  four  hundred  good  set  verses 
is  something  extraordinary.   The  critics 
of  the  excellent  "  Monthly  Anthology  " 
a  critical  journal  of  the  savans  at  Bos- 
ton, would  not  believe  the  fact  of  the 
extreme  youth  of  the  writer,  and  an 
advertisement  or  certificate  was,  in  con- 
sequence, appended  to  the  second  edi- 
tion vouching  for  the  fact. 

At  college  Mr.  Bryant  was  distin- 
guished, as  might  have  been  antici- 
pated, by  his  fondness  for  the  classics. 
He  did  not,  however,  pursue  his  studies 
to  the  close  of  the  course  at  Williams- 
burg, but  left  with  an  honorable  dis- 
missal, with  the  intention  of  com- 
pleting this  portion  of  his  education  at 


Yale.  From  this  he  was  diverted  to 
the  immediate  study  of  the  law,  at  first 
with  Judge  Howe,  of  Washington,  in 
his  native  State,  and  afterwards  with 
Mr.  William  Baylies,  of  Bridgewater. 
He  was,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  ad- 
mitted to  the  bar,  at  Plymouth,  when 
he  engaged  in  the  practice  of  the'i^ro- 
fession  for  a  year,  at  Plainfield,  near  his 
birth-place,  and  then  removed  to  Great 
Barringtou,  in  Berkshire.  There,  in 
1821,  he  was  married  to  Miss  Frances 
Fairchild,  a  most  ha2)py  union,  worthy 
a  poet's  home. 

From  this  brief  allusion  to  Mr.  Bry- 
ant's law  pursuits,  we  must  turn  to 
narrate  his  history  as  a  poet.  In  1816 
appeared  in  the  "  North  Amei^ican  Re- 
view," perhaps  to  this  day  the  most 
popularly  known  of  his  productions, 
the  lines  entitled  "  Thanatopsis."  They 
were  written  four  years  before,  when 
the  poet  was  but  eighteen.  Their  lofty 
declamation  on  the  solemn  theme  still 
finds  an  echo  in  the  hearts  of  all 
readers,  and  will  while  life  continues 
to  be  devoured  by  death.  They  are 
recited  by  schoolboys,  they  are  found 
in  popular  collections,  both  English 
and  American;  they  are  heard  often 
from  the  pulpit,  with  their  wealth  of 
imagination,  their  noble  topics  of  con- 
solation, and  incentive  to  manly  en- 
deavor : 

So  live,  that  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan,  that  moves 
To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death. 
Thou  go  not  like  the  quarry-slave  at  night, 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon ;  but,  sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave. 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams. 


466 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 


We  may  well  believe  the  story  of 
tlie  fond  father,  though  "  a  somewhat 
stern  and  silent  man,"  melting  into 
tears  at  the  recital  of  these  verses.  Nor 
does  the  poem  stand  alone  at  this  early 
period,  the  dawn  of  the  poet's  career. 
The  "  Inscription  for  an  Entrance  into 
a  Wood "  was  written  the  year  after, 
in  1813.  It  is  in  the  same  easy,  sono- 
rous, well-modulated,  blank  verse,  and 
stands  prelude  to  many  of  the 

author's  subsequent  poems,  which  have 
drawn  a  genuine  inspiration  from  that 
woodland — a  real  American  forest,  with 
all  its  peculiarities  of  light  and  foliage, 
of  rock  and  rivulet,  its  rustling  leaves, 
its  busy  animal  life  and  the  minstrelsy 
of  its  winds.  The  "  Lines  to  a  Water- 
fowl," an  exquisite  carving  against  the 
clear  sky,  worthy  companionship  -with 
the  finely-wrought  lyrics  of  ancient 
Greece,  is  dated  1816.  The  author's 
longest  poem,  "The  Ages,"  was  de- 
livered the  year  of  his  marriage  as  a 
Phi  Beta  Kappa  poem  at  Harvard.  It 
is  written  in  the  Spenserian  measure, 
the  recurring  rhyme  and  lengthened 
line  at  the  close  falling  on  the  ear  with 
an  added  burden  of  thought  and  sen- 
timent, as  the  poet,  in  historic  review, 
celebrates  the  progress  of  the  world  in 
liberty  and  virtue,  and  dissipates  the 
doubt  so  feelingly  expressed  at  the 
onset,  as  he  contemplates  the  departure 
of  the  virtuous. 

Lest  goodness  die  -witli  tliem  and  leave  the  coming 
years. 

The  poem  is  varied  by  a  succession 
of  the  most  pleasing  imagery: — ^pic- 
tures of  man  and  nature ;  of  Greece,  of 
Home,  of  mediaeval  Europe,  of  our  own 
forest  land  and  rising  civilization : 


Thus  error's  monstrous  shapes  from  earth  are  driven ; 
They  fade,  they  fly — hut  truth  survives  their 
flight; 

Earth  has  no  shades  to  quench  that  heam  of  heaven ; 
Each  ray  that  shone,  in  early  time,  to  light 
The  faltering  footsteps  in  the  path  of  right, 

Each  gleam  of  clearer  brightness  shed  to  aid 
In  man's  maturer  day  his  bolder  sight, 

All  blended,  like  the  rainbow's  radiant  braid, 

Pour  yet,  and  still  shall  pour,  the  blaze  that  cannot 
fade. 

It  is  still  the  burden  of  the  poet's 
song,  the  cause  that  cannot  die,  "the 
blaze  that  cannot  fade."  We  may 
trace  the  unyielding  sentiment  in  many 
of  his  after  poems — in  that  noble  strain 
of  eloquence,  "  The  Antiquity  of  Free- 
dom :" 

0  Freedom !  thou  art  not,  as  poets  dream, 
A  fair  young  girl,  with  light  and  delicate  limbs, 
And  wavy  tresses  gushing  from  the  cap 
With  which  the  Eoman  master  crowned  his  slave 
When  he  took  off  the  gyves.    A  bearded  man, 
Armed  to  the  teeth,  art  thou ;  one  mailed  hand 
Grasps  the  broad  shield,  and  one  the  sword;  thy 
brow, 

Glorious  in  beauty  though  it  be,  is  scarred 
With  tokens  of  old  wars  ;  thy  massive  limbs 
Are  strong  with  struggling.    Power  at  thee  has 
launched 

His  bolts,  and  with  his'  lightnings  smitten  thee ; 
They  could  not  quench  the  life  thou  hast  from 
heaven. 

Merciless  power  has  dug  thy  dungeon  deep, 
And  his  swart  armorers,  by  a  thousand  fires. 
Have  forged  thy  chain;  yet,  while  he  deems  thea 
bound, 

The  links  are  shivered,  and  the  prison  walls 
Fall  outward ;  terribly  thou  springest  forth, 
As  springs  the  flame  above  a  burning  pile, 
And  shoutest  to  the  nations,  who  return 
Thy  shoutings,  while  the  pale  oppressor  flies. 

in  the  sublime  consolation  of  the  "  Bat 
tie  Field :" 

A  friendless  warfare  1  lingering  long 
Through  weary  day  and  weary  year. 

A  wild  and  many-weaponed  throng 
Hang  on  thy  front,  and  flank,  and  rear. 


\ 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 


467 


Yet  nerve  thy  spirit  to  the  proof, 
And  blench  not  at  thy  chosen  lot. 

The  timid  good  may  stand  aloof, 

The  sago  may  frown — yet  faint  thou  not. 

Nor  heed  the  shaft  too  snrcly  cast, 
The  foul  and  hissing  bolt  of  scorn ; 

For  with  thy  side  shall  dwell  at  last, 
The  victory  of  endurance  born. 

Truth  crushed  to  earth  shall  rise  again ; 

The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers ; 
But  Error,  wounded,  writhes  with  pain, 

And  dies  among  his  worshippers. 

- — in  many  of  tlie  author's  prose  writ- 
ings ;  in  his  daily  survey,  in  the  journal 
which  he  edits,  of  all  that  in  the  provi- 
dence of  Heaven  throughout  the  world 
ministers  to  human  freedom,  virtue, 
and  happiness. 

After  ten  years  spent  in  the  practice 
of  the  law,  having  achieved  no  little 
distinction  by  the  publication  of  the 
first  volume  of  his  poems,  and  become 
familiar  with  literary  employments,  by 
his  contributions  to  the  "  Boston  Lite- 
rary Gazette,"  Mr.  Bryant,  by  the  ad- 
vice of  his  friend  Mr.  Henry  D.  Sedg- 
wick, removed  to  the  city  of  New 
York,  with  the  intention  of  pursuing 
the  career  of  a  man  of  letters.  He  at 
once  became  associated  with  Mr.  Henry 
J ames  Anderson,  an  accomplished  scho- 
lar, in  editing  the  "New  York  Ee- 
view,"  a  monthly  publication  of  much 
literaiy  merit  of  those  days,  which  the 
following  year  was  merged  in  a  similar 
work  entitled  "  The  United  States  Ee- 
view  and  Literary  Gazette,"  which  in 
turn  was  brought  to  an  end  in  a  brace 
of  volumes  in  the  autumn  of  1827. 
Mr.  Bryant  wrote  many  just  and  forci- 
ble reviews  for  these  publications,  in 
maintaining  which,  he  had  the  assist- 


ance, as  contributors,  of  his  early 
friend  Mr.  Richard  H.  Dana,  Robert 
C.  Sands,  and  the  poet  Halleck.  There 
also  appeared  many  of  his  poems,  as 
"The  Death  of  the  Flowers,"  "The 
Disinterred  Warrior,"  "  The  African 
Chief,"  "The  Indian  Girl's  Lament." 

At  the  end  of  1826,  Mr.  Bryant  first 
became  connected  with  the  "Evening 
Post"  as  a  contributor.  The  following 
year  he  was  made  one  of  the  proprie- 
tors, and  fairly  entered  on  that  career 
of  journalism  which,  with  the  exception 
of  an  occasional  vacation,  he  has  never 
since  intermitted.  The  "Evening  Post," 
with  which  he  thus  became  associated, 
is  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  influential 
newspapers  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
being  founded  by  the  eminent  Fede- 
ralist, William  Coleman,  in  1801.  On 
his  death,  which  occurred  some  two  or 
three  years  after  Mr.  Bryant's  introduc- 
tion to  its  columns,  William  Leggett 
was  employed  as  assistant  editor.  His 
labors  on  it  ceased  in  1836,  when  it 
was,  for  a  number  of  years,  conducted 
solely  by  Mr.  Bryant,  assisted  a  portion 
of  the  time  by  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Parke 
Godwin,  till  Mr.  John  Bigelow  became 
a  fellow-proprietor  in  1850,  so  that  it 
is  seen  to  have  been  under  the  ffuid- 

o 

ance  of  men  of  distinguished  ability 
from  the  start. 

About  the  time  of  his  introduction 
to  the  "  Evening  Post,"  Mr.  Bryant  en- 
gaged with  his  friends  Sands,  already 
mentioned,  and  Mr.  Gulian  C.  Ver- 
planck  in  the  composition  of  an  annual 
entitled  "The  Talisman,"  which  was 
j)ublished  for  three  years  by  a  very 
worthy  bookseller  of  New  York,  a  gen- 
tleman of  taste  and  refinement,  Mr. 


468 


WILLIAM  CTJLLEN  BRYANT. 


Eluui  Bliss.  For  this  Mr.  Bryant  wrote 
poems,  sketcLes,  and  several  stories. 
He  also  contributed  two  prose  narra- 
tives, "  The  Skeleton's  Cave,"  and  "Med- 
field,"  to  the  "Tales  of  tlie  Glauber  Spa," 
published  by  the  Harpers,  two  years 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  "  Talisman," 
in  1832. 

His  remaining  literary  works  consist  of 
various  poems  wi'itten  from  time  to  time, 
and  collected  at  different  periods  in  se- 
veral editions,  two  volumes  of  travelling 
letters,  the  fruits  of  journeys  at  inter- 
vals, from  1834  to  1858,  in  the  Southern 
States  of  the  Union,  the  island  of  Cuba, 
and  in  various  parts  of  Europe — Scot- 
land, England,  Holland,  France,  Swit- 
zerland, and  Spain ;  and  three  Eulogies, 
delivered  in  memory  of  the  artist 
Thomas  Cole,  the  novelist  Fenimore 
Cooper,  and  Washington  Irving.  The 
last  was  delivered  at  an  anniversary 
commemoration,  April  3d,  1860. 

All  these  productions,  whether  in 
prose  or  verse,  whether  an  editorial  in 
his  newspaper  or  a  staid  academical 
discourse,  are  distinguished  by  the 
same  unvarying  purity  of  expression 
and  faithful  adjustment  of  the  words  to 
the  su]:gect.  In  this  respect,  Mr.  Bryant 
stands  distinguished  among  the  authors 
of  the  day,  in  thorough  mental  disci- 
pline, strength  of  perception  and  truth- 
fulness in  all  that  he  utters.  His  verse 
never  oversteps  the  modesty  of  nature. 
Whether  it  paints  a  bird,  a  flower,  a 
prairie,  or  an  ocean,  it  is  fidelity  itself. 
There  is,  perhaps,  less  surplusage  in  his 
writings  than  in  those  of  any  author 
who  has  written  so  much.  Of  his  pub- 
lished compositions  in  verse,  since  his 
manhood,  we  know  of  nothing  which 


!  could  be  spared  from  his  collected 
works.  This  is  a  very  rare  merit,  and 
argues  not  merely  self-knowledge,  for 
that  a  man  may  have  and  fall  very  far 
short  of  perfection,  but  a  concentrated 
power  of  mind  which  is  proof  of  a 
very  high  order  of  genius.  Whenever 
a  poem  appears  from  his  pen  it  is  sure 
to  possess  some  peculiar  merit — some 
grace  of  nature,  heightened  by  art,  yet 
with  no  taint  of  affectation ;  something 
plain,  yet  refined,  like  the  beauty  of 
the  Eoman  poet's  mistress,  simplex 
mimditiis. 

The  topics  of  the  poems  are  of  per- 
manent interest,  the  great  emotions  of 
life,  its  joys,  oftener  its  sorrows,  and 
not  seldom  its  visions  of  death ;  the 
four  seasons  of  the  year,  with  theii; 
varieties  of  association,  the  voices  of 
birds  and  rills,  and  sweet  faces  of  the 
flowers;  the  elements  of  nature — the 
heavens,  with  the  winds  and  tides ;  the 
struggles  of  man  for  freedom  and  hap- 
piness; the  love  of  country,  the  love 
of  all.  They  are  sentimental,  yet  the 
sentiment  is  so  blended  with  truth  and 
reason,  and  the  outward  types  of  na- 
ture, that  it  never  becomes  sentimen- 
tality. They  are  sometimes  personal, 
yet  the  personality  is  so  veiled  and 
associated  with  universal  objects  and 
emotions  that  it  may  be  as  true  to 
your  experience  as  to  the  writer's. 
There  is  one  poem  in  particular  of  the 
latter  character  which  reveals  a  world 
of  heartfelt  emotion.  It  is  entitled 
"The  Future  Life." 

How  shall  I  know  thee  in  the  sphere  which  keeps 

The  disembodied  spirits  of  the  dead, 
When  all  of  thee  that  time  could  wither,  sleeps 
And  perishes  among  the  dust  we  tread  ? 


WIIJJAM  CIJLLEN  BRYANT. 


469 


For  I  phnll  tool  tho  sting;  of  ceaseless  pain, 
If  there  I  meet  thy  gentle  presence  not; 

Nor  hear  the  voice  I  love,  nor  read  again 
In  thy  screnost  eyes  the  tender  thought. 

Will  not  thv  own  meek  heart  demand  me  there  ? 

That  heart  vf^hose  fondest  throbs  to  me  were  given  ? 
My  name  on  earth  was  ever  in  thy  prayer, 

Shall  it  be  banished  from  thy  tongue  in  heaven  ? 

In  meadows  fanned  by  heaven's  life-breathing  wind, 
In  the  resplendence  of  that  glorious  sphere, 

And  larger  movements  of  the  unfettered  mind, 
Wilt  thou  forget  the  love  that  joined  us  here? 

The  love  that  lived  through  all  the  stormy  past, 
And  meekly  with  my  harsher  nature  bore, 

And  deeper  grew,  and  tenderer  to  the  last, 
Shall  it  expire  with  life,  and  be  no  more  ? 

A  liappier  lot  than  mine,  and  larger  light. 

Await  thee  there ;  for  thou  hast  bowed  thy  will 

In  cheerful  homage  to  the  rule  of  right, 
And  lovest  aU,  and  renderest  good  for  ill. 

For  me,  the  sordid  cares  in  which  I  dwell. 

Shrink  and  consume  my  heart,  as  heat  the  scroll ; 

And  wrath  has  left  its  scar — that  fire  of  hell 
Has  left  its  frightful  scar  upon  my  soul. 

Yet  though  thou  wear'st  the  glory  of  the  sky, 
"Wilt  thou  not  keep  the  same  beloved  name. 

The  same  fair  thoughtful  brow,  and  gentle  eye, 
Lovelier  in  heaven's  sweet  climate,  yet  the  same  ? 

Shalt  thou  not  teach  me,  in  that  calmer  home. 
The  wisdom  that  I  learned  so  ill  in  this — 

The  wisdom  which  is  love — till  I  become 
Thy  fit  companion  in  that  land  of  bliss  ? 


The  part  borne  by  Mr.  Bryant  in 
political  life  is  well  known.  Long  at- 
tached to  the  Democratic  party,  a  sup- 
porter of  its  great  measures  in  free 
trade  and  finance  as  they  were  illus- 
trated by  such  leaders  as  Andrew  Jack- 
son, Silas  Wright,  and  others,  he  took 
the  initiative  in  the  formation  of  the 
new  Kepublican  party,  which  he  has 
seen  grow  to  strength  by  his  advocacy, 
11.— 59 


as  much  as  that  of  any  man,  and  which 
now,  in  its  maturity,  recognizes  him  as 
its  honored  guide. 

Mr.  Bryant's  residence,  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  year,  is  in  the  country,  at 
Roslyn,  Long  Island,  on  the  Sound,  a 
few  hours'  distant  from  the  city.  His 
house  is  a  plain,  rural  dwelling  of  the 
better  class,  built  by  a  Quaker  settler, 
toward  the  close  of  the  last  century, 
with  an  eye  to  substantial  comfort.  It 
stands — we  quote  from  the  description 
in  the  "  Homes  of  American  Authors," 
at  the  foot  of  a  woody  hill,  which  shel- 
ters it  on  the  east,  facing  Hempstead 
harbor,  to  which  the  flood  tide  gives 
the  appearance  of  a  lake,  bordered  to 
its  very  edge  with  trees,  thro,^gh  which, 
at  intervals,  are  seen  farm-houses  and 
cottages,  and  all  that  brings  to  mind 
that  beautiful  image,  'a  smiling  land.' 
The  position  is  well  chosen,  and  it  is 
enhanced  in  beauty  by  a  small,  arti- 
ficial pond,  collected  from  the  springs 
with  which  the  hill  abounds,  and  lying 
between  the  house  and  the  edge  of  the 
harbor,  from  which  it  is  divided  by  an 
irregular  embankment,  aifording  room 
for  a  plantation  of  shade-trees  and  fine 
shrubbery."    Roslyn,  the  name  of  the 
village,  was  suggested  by  Mr.  Bryant, 
from  an  incident  recorded  in  the  town 
annals,  that  the  British  troops  marched 
out  of  Hempstead  to  the  tune  of  Ros- 
lyn Castle. 

In  person,  Mr.  Bryant  is  tall  and 
rather  slender,  but  vigorous  and  capa- 
ble of  endurance.  In  early  life  he  had, 
we  have  heard,  a  tendency  to  ill  health, 
which  has  been  overcome  by  care  and 
exercise.  He  is  an  early  riser,  a  stout 
pedestrian,  and  spite  of  his  editorial 


470 


WILLIAM  CULLEN  BRYANT. 


labors,  lives  mucli  in  tlie  open  air.  He 
is  fond  of  rural  pursuits,  and  is  fre- 
quently called  upon  to  address  horti- 
cultural and  otLer  agricultural  socie- 
ties. He  has  also  a  sincere  fondness 
for  art,  and  may  be  seen  at  the  annual 
openings  of  the  exhibitions  of  the  Aca- 
demy of  Design,  in  New  York,  one  of 
the  most  honored  and  delighted  guests. 


He  was  one  of  the  Presidents  of  the 
American  Art  Union.  In  fine,  there 
is  no  literary  or  artistical  excellence 
which  has  sprung  up  in  the  city  in  his 
time,  which  has  not  benefited  by  his 
genial  presence,  as  there  are  no  great 
questions  which  have  agitated  the 
country,  in  which  he  has  not  taken  an 
influential  part. 


V 


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